Desperate Measures
by MyChaosTheory
Summary: Punk thought the criminal underbelly of Chicago was all he'd ever be good for. But when young veterinarian AJ comes to town and shows him another side, he wonders if there just might be another way to live his life after all. Can she sway Punk and his best friends Dean Ambrose, Seth Rollins, and Roman Reigns away from the business that threatens to consume them? [AU story]
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: Hey everyone! MyChaosTheory back with another #AJPunk for all of you. This time, I'm trying an AU (alternate universe, which means it is set outside of the wrestling world) story with our favorite couple, as well as the boys from The Shield. I hope everyone enjoys it! **

* * *

"Well, I guess we're done for the day," AJ announced. She shrugged out of her coat, turning to hang it on the hook labeled with her name. Sighing heavily, she leaned back against the wall, tucking her hair behind her ears and straightening her T-shirt. Her hands were still slightly shaky, as they always were at the end of long days like today.

"You did the right thing, Dr. Mendez," the receptionist assured her. "That dog couldn't have been saved. Putting him out of his misery saved him weeks of more pain and suffering."

"I know," AJ lamented, "but I was really hopeful about this one. The owner's little boy was so excited to take him home… only to hear from me that his puppy wasn't coming with him after all." She sighed, forcing a smile. "Thanks, Kathy. I'm going to head out. Are you closing up?"

"As soon as I finish filing these records," Kathy replied. "You go on. I'll see you bright and early Monday morning. Have a good weekend, Dr. Mendez."

* * *

It was a brisk, windy September evening in Chicago. AJ sat straight at attention as she drove; she'd only begun working at the Downtown Animal Hospital a few months ago, shortly after she'd moved here, and much of the city was still unfamiliar to her. She had her route to and from work fairly memorized, but today a traffic obstruction caused her to have to take a few detours.

"I _think _this is it," she muttered as she turned onto a familiar road. As she went past another block, it was confirmed- she was nearing her neighborhood. She pulled up to a red light, tapping her hands lightly against her steering wheel as soft music rolled in through her open window. Glancing to her right, she saw the source of the sound- it was drifting through the open door of a bar. She recognized the place, having passed by a few times.

_Screw it, _she thought. _I could use a drink. _As soon as the light changed, she pulled into the parking lot without a second thought. While she didn't plan on getting tipsy enough that she wouldn't be able to drive, this place was close enough to her apartment that she would be able to walk home if she needed to. With a brief sigh, she got out of the car and headed inside.

* * *

"This shit is great, Punk," Dean said with a grin, knocking back another shot. He winced, swallowing hard. The amber liquid burned his throat on the way down. "I don't know why you don't try it!"

"You _know _why, asshole," Punk replied lightly.

"Because you're an arrogant prick?" Seth guessed, prodding Punk with his empty beer glass.

"Of course I am, but that's not why. The reason is tattooed on my stomach!" Punk shoved Seth playfully, leaning back in his chair. "You guys are jerks, you know that?"

"No more than you are," Roman reminded him.

Punk laughed. "Yeah, but-" He frowned at the sound from behind him, turning away from the table to face the bar. His eyes landed on a clearly distressed young woman. She was inching away from a much older man, whose posturing suggested he was preying on his next lay. "You guys be good. I'm gonna go check something out."

"Quit being a bleeding heart!" Dean called after him, but Punk just waved him off.

As Punk got closer to the bar, his earlier suspicions were confirmed. "No, thank you, I'm really not interested," the young woman insisted, scooting back on her barstool.

"Come on, baby," the man jeered, leaning closer. "Just give me a chance." He reached out to touch her cheek; she slapped his hand away.

"Hey," Punk interrupted. "You got a hearing problem?"

The man shot Punk a searing glare. "Back off," he growled. "This is none of your business."

"I believe I heard the lady tell you she wasn't interested," Punk snapped. "Now either _you _back off, or we're going to have a real problem." He rolled his shoulders back, standing up as straight and as threateningly as he possibly could. The man regarded him for a moment, as though sizing him up and weighing his options. Finally he slipped off his stool.

"Whatever," he spat, slamming his glass down on the bar. "Bitch ain't worth it, anyway." He turned around and stormed off.

"Thank you," the woman blurted out gratefully. "I thought I was in trouble for a little while there."

"No problem," Punk replied. "I hate scum like him." He was about to walk back to his table, but he stopped as the woman turned toward him, and for the first time he got a real glimpse of her… and what he saw nearly took his breath away. Long waves of brown hair, sun-kissed skin, shimmering eyes the color of chocolate. He couldn't just walk away from this woman. Biting back a gasp, he slid onto the stool. "So… what's your name?"

"AJ," she replied with a smile, extending a hand for him. He gladly accepted it, and shook it; her hand was small, but it fit neatly in his.

"AJ," he repeated with a small smile. "That doesn't sound like a girl's name." He cursed himself silently for saying something stupid. What if he offended her?

But to his surprise, she chuckled. "It's a nickname," she explained. "My first name is April and my middle name is Jeanette. That's what I've been called ever since I was a little kid." She stirred her drink for a moment with her straw. "You?"

"Punk," he answered.

She laughed again. "Oh, come on," she said. "You make fun of my name, and then you give me something like that?" She flicked a strand of hair out of her face. "Let me guess- nickname?"

"Sure is. I've been a punk my whole life, so that's what they call me."

"Well, what's your real name?"

He smiled. "No one gets that on the first meeting," he told her. "It's a tightly kept secret, you know." Then he straightened up. "So what are you doing in a place like this, anyway? I usually don't see pretty girls like you around here."

"I had a rough day at work," she admitted. "I'm a vet. I work at the Downtown Animal Hospital. I…" She sighed. "I just needed to unwind a little."

"There are better places to do it," he said, just as the bartender reached them.

"Can I get you something, man?" he asked.

Punk shook his head. "No thanks," he replied. "I don't drink."

"Don't drink?" AJ echoed as the bartender left them. "Then what are you doing here?"

He turned in his chair. "See those guys?" he asked, pointing to the table where Dean, Seth, and Roman were laughing jovially amongst themselves. "Those are my best friends. They always drag me with them when they want to go out and have more than a few drinks. Since I'm straight edge, they know I'll always be sober to drive them all home."

"That's really nice of you to be there for them," she said with a smile.

"It's one of the few nice things I do," he added with a chuckle, and her smile broadened at him.

* * *

AJ didn't mean to spend her entire evening at that bar, but she found herself too captivated by this man-Punk-to tear herself away. Time slipped away as they talked, his bright, inviting green eyes never leaving hers. She was so engrossed in her exchange with him, she didn't even touch the rest of her drink. They didn't breach below the barrier of surface topics, and this sort of light conversation was exactly what she needed to unwind after a rough day. She quickly learned they had all sorts of things in common- their love of comics and superheroes, gritty action movies, even baseball (even though they differed on teams; he was a diehard Cubs fan, while she was a lifelong Yankees supporter).

But all good things had to come to an end. Shortly after one in the morning-God, had they really been talking for so long?-the blond-haired man from Punk's table called over to them. "Hey! Hey, Punk! _Punk_! Can you hear me over there?" His speech was slightly slurred- it was clear he and his friends had been drinking for most of the night.

Punk rolled his eyes good-naturedly before turning to glance over his shoulder. "Yes, Dean, I can hear you," he replied calmly, as though speaking to a child. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just…" The man-Dean-frowned, as though he were searching for the right words. "Can you, um, take us home? I think Seth's falling asleep."

"Am not," the man with the two-toned hair grumbled, but his head was slipping from where it rested on his elbow even as he spoke.

The third man laughed, shoving Seth's elbow and causing his chin to strike the edge of the table. "_Now _you're awake," he teased.

"Damn it, Roman!" Seth snapped.

Punk sighed, turning back to AJ. "Looks like duty calls," he said, sliding off the barstool. "Sorry to cut our conversation short."

"That's okay," she assured him, ducking her head slightly to hide her amused smile- his friends were quite entertaining. "I should probably be heading home anyway."

"Here, I'll walk you to your car before I fetch these assholes," he offered. "I wouldn't want you going out there by yourself. It gets a little seedy around here this late at night."

She smiled broadly. _What a gentleman, _she thought. "Thanks!" She pulled her wallet out to pay for her drink, but by the time she unzipped it, she saw he'd already thrown some cash down onto the bar. "Oh, you didn't have to do that!"

But he just waved her off. "Don't worry about it," he said. "Come on, where's your car?"

They weaved their way through the remaining patrons, finding their way to the parking lot of the bar. She led him over to her modest Toyota, which she wondered if he noticed still had New Jersey plates on it. "Well," she announced, "this is me." She leaned back against the driver's side door; she didn't want this night to end yet. She hadn't felt this relaxed in awhile, and she wanted to get to know him better.

He smiled, his devious little grin sending a shiver down her spine. "So I guess I'll… see you around sometime?" he asked hopefully.

She smiled back. "Yeah, I'll see you around," she replied. "Goodnight, Punk." It wasn't until she'd already pulled out of the parking lot and was on her way home that he'd probably been waiting for her to offer him her phone number. How stupid could she have been, not to pick up on that signal? Was her radar permanently broken? Cursing silently, she turned around to head back to the bar, wondering if there was any way she could still salvage this. But as she rolled back by the lot, she saw Punk helping his three buddies over what she could only assume was his car. How desperate would it look to run back up to him waving her number while he was dragging his drunken pals out of the bar?

She sighed; she couldn't believe how easy it was for her to screw up what could have turned into something great. _I blew it, _she thought miserably, turning the car around to head home. _Maybe I'm not ready for this after all._


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: Hey all! Enjoying this so far? I'm having fun writing it. Here's chapter 2!**

* * *

AJ tried her best to forget about how badly she was sure she'd screwed things up with Punk. It wasn't easy; after being in the city for only a few months, the only people she really knew were from work, which didn't leave her with a lot of options to hang out with anyone. Somehow, calling up a co-worker to help her to ease her loneliness just seemed a little too desperate. So she worked out alone on her treadmill, watched some of her favorite movies, and walked her dog in the park near her apartment building. By Sunday, she was feeling much better about her embarrassment. But no matter what she did, she couldn't stop thinking about the tall, green-eyed hero who saved her from the bar.

_Oh, come on, _she told herself sternly. _Stop making such a big deal out of this! You spent _one _evening talking to the guy. It's not like you just broke up with your soul mate or something_. She sighed. No, that had already happened to her. _Just get over it already. Stop obsessing. Maybe this is why he left you._

Determined now, AJ walked into work on Monday with her head held high. The morning went well- she immunized a few newly adopted puppies, had some follow-up appointments, and prescribed some post-op antibiotics to a healing cat. She was just about to break for lunch when Kathy appeared in her office, tapping lightly on the doorframe.

"Knock knock," she said. "Are you headed out for your lunch hour?"

"Yeah, I was going to try that new deli across the street," AJ replied, reaching for her wallet as she stood. She didn't like to carry purses. "Want me to grab you a sandwich?"

"Actually, there's just one more patient before you go," Kathy admitted. "A walk-in."

AJ frowned. "Well, if it's not one of my regulars, can't someone else do it?" she asked. "All I had for breakfast was coffee. I'm starving."

"Well, I wouldn't even be mentioning it, but he asked for you by name," Kathy answered. "It's funny, really. He asked for 'AJ'. He doesn't know your last name." She chuckled. "I don't know, Dr. Mendez. I think should take this one. He's pretty cute."

She put her purse down, too curious now to even worry about her lunch break. Who in this city knew only her first name, and where she worked? "Well, I guess I have time for one more… Where is he?"

"Exam one."

* * *

_"I can't believe you didn't fuck that chick," Seth said with a grin._

_"Oh, fuck off," Punk growled. He hadn't been in a good mood since leaving the bar on Friday night. For some reason, he couldn't get that girl out of his head. No other woman he'd ever spoken to knew Justice League history quite like she did. It put her miles ahead of the brainless, drunken chicks he normally flirted with long enough to get a blowjob or a quick lay. No, this one was… different. Not shallow but real, with substance. Maybe that was why he couldn't stop thinking about her. "I was… easing into it."_

_"Hey, Punk, a hint?" Dean added, tossing his empty holster onto the coffee table and putting his feet up. "If she doesn't give you her number after three hours of mindless conversation, she's probably not interested." He laughed. _

_"Like you have any room to talk," Punk shot back. "What was that blonde bimbo's name you screwed who never returned your calls? Katy?"_

_"Kelly," Dean corrected tersely. He fell silent for a moment. "Damn, she had some legs."_

_"Look, man," Seth cut in calmly, "I think you struck out on this one. She was probably only talking to you out of gratitude, anyway. Didn't you save her from that creepy guy who was hitting on her?"_

_"Jesus, will you guys shut up for a second?" Roman growled from the other couch, massaging his temples. "I have a fucking headache." Out of himself, Dean, and Seth, he had the worst hangover; he hadn't said much this Saturday morning._

_Punk sighed, ignoring Roman's outburst as he loaded his clip. "Maybe," he said. "I guess. I don't know." Somehow, he just didn't think Seth was right. That girl, AJ, seemed far too enticed to be talking to him out of pity. And for some reason, he couldn't get those eyes of hers out of his head. What had he said wrong? Why hadn't she given him her number? He wanted so desperately to see her again (which he had to admit scared him a little; most women he didn't give a second thought to but for their bodies), but all he had was her first name and where she he worked. He supposed he could show up at the vet's office, but wouldn't that come off as creepy, finding her at work after only spending a few hours together? No, Seth was right. This was it. He had to forget about this girl, and move on… He had work to do. Focus._

_But on Monday morning, as he was heading to his car, that idea changed. Hiding behind one of the tires was a small, dirty, terrified gray kitten. Frowning, he crouched down. "Hey, little guy," he said softly, reaching for him. The kitten shivered, inching closer to the tire. "Come on. You can't stay under here." But it still wouldn't budge. Sighing, he reached further, grabbing the kitten by the scruff of its neck and cradled it in his arms. "Damn, you're freezing!" He quickly went to his trunk, where he found an old towel to wrap the kitten in. "Well… now what should I do with you?" The kitten merely blinked, staring up at him with wide black eyes._

_Normally, he would have either shooed the thing away or just brought it to the nearest animal shelter (if he was in a really good mood… which he wasn't), but as he held the tiny animal, a thought occurred to him. This kitten was clearly distressed- it could use some medical attention. Who would blame him if he stopped by the Downtown Animal Hospital? _

_Smiling down at the kitten, he got into the car and placed the toweled bundle on the passenger seat. "You hid underneath the right car, little guy," he said._

* * *

"Good afternoon, sir," AJ said as she entered the room. "I was told you asked for- wait, _Punk_?"

The man from the bar smiled back at her, rising from his chair. "So this is what Dr…" He leaned forward, studying the name sewed onto her white coat. "…Mendez looks like at work, huh?"

AJ laughed nervously, crossing her arms around her clipboard; her heart was pounding now. After spending a weekend agonizing over making a fool of herself, and finally telling herself she'd never see him again, suddenly here he was. What would she say to him? How could she redeem herself? "Yeah!" she replied. _Really, is that all you've got? Damn it. _"White coat and everything. But I'm sure you didn't just come here to see me. Is, uh, this your cat?" She gestured to the shivering bundle in his arms.

"Well, actually, he's not," Punk replied. "I found it under my car this morning. I remembered the name of this animal hospital, so I figured, who better to check him out?"

"Oh!" She smiled sweetly. "I'm glad you thought of me." _More than glad… _"Well, why don't you put him up on the table and we'll take a look."

He unwrapped the towel, setting the kitten down on the exam table. It stood up shakily, moving its head back and forth slowly as its gaze traveled from Punk to AJ.

Punk leaned back against the wall, watching as AJ carefully examined the frightened little animal. He smiled as she lightly manipulated each of the kitten's limbs, opened its mouth, and shined a light in its ears- he could never imagine himself being so gentle with anything. The kitten didn't make a single peep, clearly responding to her good nature. There was definitely more to this girl than he thought… He could only hope she wasn't put off by his sudden appearance here.

"Well, he's definitely a little underfed," she announced finally. "He could also use a bath and a flea treatment, but everything else seems to be fine. I'd want to run a test to check for heartworms, though. He's probably only about 8 or 8 weeks old, so you'd have to get the kitten version of the treatment. But don't worry, it's cheaper."

Punk ran a hand over his slicked-back hair; he hadn't thought this far ahead. By taking the initiative to bring this kitten in, he was also taking responsibility for him, too. How much would all of this cost? He definitely had the money, but did he have the time to take care of a cat? Did he really even want one, or was he just doing this to impress a girl? _God damn it, I'm acting like Seth right now._

AJ's cheeks suddenly reddened as she looked up at him. "Oh, I didn't mean to assume you'd be keeping him," she said quickly. _There I go, jumping to conclusions again. _"I can, um, get him set up at the shelter if you want…" She bit her lip.

Punk couldn't help but chuckle; her obvious nervousness amused him. But it also made him wonder why. Was she smitten with him, or did his presence truly frighten her? What could he do to make her see he wasn't like that creepy man from the bar? As he idly scratched the kitten behind the ears, he suddenly knew how. His decision was made for him. "I think I'll keep him," he announced, scooping the animal up off the table. "I could use a little guy for company."

She flashed him a broad smile. "Great!" she exclaimed. "We can get him bathed, vaccinated, and tagged all right here if you want."

He smiled back; he couldn't help it. Her happiness was contagious.

Half an hour later, Punk was walking out into the reception area holding a new cat carrier. Inside, little Clark (as in Kent; AJ had approved of the name) was fast asleep. He grimaced as he paid the bill- $250. _The things I do to impress women, _he thought. _I'm never gonna hear the end of this from the guys… Some 'Punk' I am. _But if nothing else came of this, at least he would have someone other than his trio of misfits to sit back with at the end of the day.

"Hey!" AJ called to him as he was signing his debit card receipt, coming into the lobby. She wasn't wearing her coat anymore. "Are you heading straight home now?"

"Well, I was just going to bring him home," he answered carefully. He could tell she was getting at something. "But I'm not busy. Why?"

"I was going to lunch," she told him. "Maybe you could join me? My treat. It's the least I can do after you rescued me the other night… and this cute little guy here!" She smiled proudly; it felt good to be bold, shedding her nerves and taking the step forward. He made the effort to come to _her _office- she wasn't about to let him go this time.

He grinned. "Sounds great," he said.

They walked to the deli across the street, Clark still sleeping soundly even as his carrier bounced against Punk's leg. "The lady at the front desk was telling me about this place," she explained as they reached the counter. "She said the food is amazing. I've been dying to try it."

"Well don't I feel honored to be asked out to lunch here, then?" he teased. They each ordered a sandwich, and he watched as she pulled out her wallet to pay. "Wow, Wonder Woman wallet? You weren't kidding on Friday. You really are a nerd."

Her cheeks were tinted a light shade of pink as she shoved her wallet back into the pocket of her jeans. "Is… that a bad thing?" she asked slowly, the nerves returning.

"Oh, no," he assured her. "It's an amazing thing."

It was only after they had finished their meals when AJ finally noticed the tattoos on her lunch mate's hands. "I didn't know you had tattoos," she admitted, eating the last of her sandwich. "Are those the only ones you have?"

Punk nearly balked; she didn't know?! But he then remembered he'd been wearing a jacket on Friday night, and had long sleeves today. "There's more," he replied with a chuckle. "So many more." He pushed up his sleeves, watching with amusement as her eyes lit up. They traveled up his arms, drinking in every intricate design that went right up to his shoulders. "I'd show you the rest, but I wouldn't want to show off my chest in public." He winked at her.

"They're amazing!" she blurted out. "I want to see all of them!" Then she frowned. "Oh my God, I can't believe I just said that." She ducked her head. "That must have sounded awful."

He laughed heartily. _No, that sounded great, _he thought, just as his phone buzzed against his leg. "Don't worry," he told her gently. "Hold on a sec. Hello?"

"Job's on," Dean said hurriedly. "We've gotta go."

Punk groaned. "_Now_? But I thought we weren't moving on it until tomorrow!"

"Now," Dean echoed. "Come on. Hurry. We're waiting at your place. We have to be there in an hour."

"Fine," he grumbled. "I'll be there soon." He hung up, sighing with frustration as he pocketed his phone. How could he be interrupted _now?_ They were only just getting started!

"Everything okay?" AJ asked.

"Work," Punk answered. "I've gotta run. Thanks for lunch, AJ. We should do this again sometime." He stood up, nearly forgetting to grab the handle of Clark's crate as he headed away from the table.

But AJ was busy scribbling furiously; she wasn't letting this happen again. "Punk, wait!" she called, hurrying after him. "You forgot something."

He turned on his heel. "Yeah?"

She pressed a napkin into his hand. "My number," she said. "Call me sometime." She smiled innocently at him before hurrying off to cross the street, heading back to her office.

Punk grinned down at his hand unabashedly. Yes, this was going very well. But his smile faded as he put the napkin in his pocket, heading back to his car. He couldn't think about AJ now. Dean, Seth, and Roman were waiting for him.


	3. Chapter 3

"And he's got tattoos _everywhere_!" AJ exclaimed, laying back on her bed. "He could only show me the ones on his arms, but he says he's got them on his chest, too." She sighed dreamily as her Chihuahua, Nacho, scrambled up to lay with her.

"Maybe you'll get to see the rest of them them soon," Kaitlyn remarked teasingly. "You gave him your number, right?"

"I sure did," AJ replied proudly. Ever the young, excited little girl at heart, she'd called her best friend back home as soon as she'd gotten back from work. She was glad Kaitlyn was able to share in her joy, but she knew her lifelong pal was going to lecture her eventually, with her 'mama bear' mentality.

"But AJ…" Kaitlyn began hesitantly.

"Here it comes," AJ muttered, rolling her eyes as she scratched Nacho behind the ears.

"Oh, come on," Kaitlyn admonished. "Just hear me out. I know you're really excited about this guy, but you only broke up with Daniel a few months ago."

"So?" AJ snapped, almost defensively. "Is there a timeframe I have to obey with moving on?"

"No," Kaitlyn replied carefully, ever-aware of AJ's tendencies, "I just remember how badly he hurt you. You moved halfway across the country and left everything you knew behind just to get away from everything that happened. I'm worried about you. I don't want you to get hurt again. I mean, how much do you really know about this guy, anyway? How old is he? Where does he work? Hell, you don't even know his real name!"

"I'm sure he'll tell me eventually," AJ muttered, twisting a lock of hair around her index finger. "Kait, I'll be fine. After Daniel, I thought I would never get excited about a possible relationship again. But now I'm starting to think that's not so true after all."

Kaitlyn sighed. "Just be careful," she said.

* * *

"Hold still," Seth snapped.

"Fuck!" Punk groaned, slapping his hands away. "Stop it! That fucking stings!"

"Don't be such a pussy," Dean called from the other side of Punk's living room, unlacing his boots and kicking them off with a satisfied groan. He ejected the clip from his gun before placing them both on the table, sinking back into the couch.

"You have to let me do this," Seth insisted, turning back to the first aid kit. "It could get infected if you don't let me clean it and patch it up.

"Thanks, Mommy Rollins, but I'll be fine," Punk snapped. He yanked his shirt up over his head to reveal the bullet-proof vest beneath, unzipping it and placing it on the counter.

"Sorry, which of us went to school for this?" Seth asked, tilting his head at his friend. "I think I'd know."

"Oh, quit acting all high and mighty," Roman griped from the counter. "You dropped out way before you graduated, remember?"

"That doesn't mean I don't remember what I learned," Seth muttered, grabbing another alcohol swab. He'd only lasted a few weeks in EMT training; working nights at a fast food joint just to scrape together enough cash to pay for his tuition wasn't to his liking. No, the money from his current profession was just too lucrative to stay away. He'd been back before they even missed him. Turning back to Punk, he sighed. "Come on, man. The faster you let me finish this, the faster it'll heal." He grinned. "You don't want to have a shiny wound on your _date_, do you?"

At this, Punk straightened up; sometimes it felt like his friends could read his mind. "I haven't even called her yet," he said stiffly.

"Don't be shy, baby boy!" Dean crowed. "You were having lunch with her when I called, weren't you? You even got a cat to impress her! A fucking _cat_!" As though responding to his cue, Clark scampered out of the bedroom, little paws clacking on the wood floor as he ran over to Punk.

"How cute," Roman teased. "He's keeping you company."

"Think fast!"

Before Punk could even react, Seth pressed the alcohol swab firmly against the cut on his forehead. The tattooed man groaned but finally allowed his friend to work, stilling his hands as Seth dabbed at the blood. With the wound finally clean, the makeshift doctor of the crew applied a small butterfly bandage.

"There," Seth announced, sitting back. "Done. Jesus, was that so hard? I've seen you get fucked up much worse than this, and you whine over a little slice?"

"The alcohol burns," Punk explained. "Besides, it was pretty deep, even though it's not long. I think the guy got me with that box cutter."

"Damn, then it's a good thing you finally let me disinfect it."

"Yeah, yeah," Punk growled. He looked over at Roman. "What's it looking like?"

Roman was busy with an assortment of cash spread out on the counter. "Well, we've got our cut," he explained, "and whatever else Dean managed to snatch off him. I've got the 800 for each of us. I'll drop the rest at Colt's on the way home so he can sort everything else out."

"Make sure you do that," Punk advised. "It needs to be wired down as soon as possible." He glanced down at the cat, who was nuzzling against his bare stomach. Watching his new kitten, a sudden urge overcame him. He knew he should probably take some time, rest, let himself heal… but he had to call her. Even the presence of his insulting best friends didn't deter him. Taking a deep breath, he took his phone out of his pocket. "All right, you guys need to shut up. I'm making a call."

Roman chuckled. "You're calling the girl, aren't you?" he asked.

"Of _course _he's calling the girl," Dean answered for him, rolling his eyes. He sighed. "Come on, Punk. What are you doing? Why can't you just keep fucking random girls like you always do? You _know _you shouldn't get close to a chick again, because-"

"I've been stuck in this sausage fest with the three of you for way too long," Punk cut him off. "There's something different about this one, guys. I don't just want to fuck her and leave her."

"Aw, he _likes _her," Dean said in a sarcastic, dreamy voice. Seth and Roman howled with laughter.

"Shut up." Punk threw his shirt at him. "Now be quiet." He pulled up his contacts list- she was the first one there, and he'd added her number as soon as he'd reached his car after lunch. With one last deep breath, he tapped her number to make the call.

* * *

"I don't know, Nacho," AJ muttered. "I think Kaitlyn's wrong. Christian Bale is definitely the best Batman. He does the gruffly voice so much better." _How pathetic, _she thought. _ I'm actually talking to my dog. I really need to make some friends over here. _She glanced down at her hands, remembering the inked ones she saw this afternoon. _A tattooed friend._

Just as thoughts of Punk drifted back into her mind once again, her phone began to ring. Nacho scurried away as it buzzed underneath him. "There it is!" she said, grabbing the green cased phone. "I was wondering where I left it. Huh…" She didn't recognize the number, but the Chicago area code was familiar. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to hope it was Punk on the other end of the line.

"I hope this is the right number," came the smooth, deep, easy-going voice she remembered.

"It is if you're looking for AJ," she replied coolly, trying to contain her excitement.

"Well, this pretty girl I had lunch with today gave me her number on a napkin," he explained slyly. "Would that happen to be AJ?"

"That's me," she replied with a giggle. She felt like she was 16 again, that little flirtatious magic she hadn't felt in years. "What's up, Punk?"

He laughed. "I know there's probably some sort of time delay I'm supposed to follow before calling a woman," he answered, "but fuck it. I never play by the rules. Forgive me if this sounds stupid, it's been a long time since I've actually asked a girl out, but-"

Her stomach was doing somersaults as she sat straight up. "Are you asking out on a date?" she blurted out eagerly. She couldn't help it; the butterflies in her stomach were too much.

"Well, yeah," he replied sheepishly. She imagined him running a hand back over his hair, as she'd seen him do several times. But hearing noise in the background, she frowned.

"What's the sound?" she asked.

"Oh, that." He sighed. "Those are my douchebag my friends. Remember the three drunk assholes I had to drag out of the bar on Friday night? They're here laughing at me because I'm asking you out."

She smiled broadly. "Well, the joke's on them," she announced, "because I'm saying yes."


	4. Chapter 4

"What are you even supposed to wear on a first date, anyway?" AJ asked with a sigh, standing before her open closet with a frown. "I haven't been on a first date since high school." _Not since Daniel asked me out in senior year, _she thought. _And the rest was history._

"Well, where did he say he was taking you?" Kaitlyn questioned. She was on speaker phone, which lay face up on the dresser. Nacho hopped about in front the piece of furniture excitedly, responding to the sound of Kaitlyn's voice.

"Nothing fancy," AJ replied. "Just dinner somewhere and a movie." It was Friday afternoon now. She'd left work a little early to come home and prepare for this date, but the most difficult hurdle for a woman-that is, finding something to wear-seemed nearly impossible. 'Not fancy' left the threshold wide open for almost anything.

"Oh, please," Kaitlyn said with a laugh. "It's not _that _difficult, AJ! Nice jeans and a shirt will do. You said he's a fellow nerd, right? How about… that faded Spiderman tee and a zip up hoodie?"

AJ was silent for a moment, brows furrowed as she located each of these items in her closet. Even halfway across the country, Kaitlyn knew her wardrobe better than AJ did. "Huh, I guess that was easier than I thought," she said, laying the clothes down on her bed. "Why am I making such a big deal out of this, anyway?" She put her hands on her hips, staring down at her newly picked out outfit confidently. "This will go fine."

"That's my girl!" Kaitlyn called.

* * *

"So when she dumps you," Dean said casually, "will you give me her number?"

"She's not gonna dump me," Punk growled back. "Besides, I told you. This isn't a one-and-done. I'm actually going to try for something real this time. For once."

"All right, hotshot," Dean challenged, folding his arms, "if you aren't planning to bring her home, then why are you stashing all the guns, gear, money, and other fun assortment of stuff out of sight?"

Punk paused for a moment as he secured the lock on the closet door, safely hiding his stock of less-than-savory items away. "I'm not _planning _on anything," he replied tersely, leaning against the door. "It's just in case. You never know what'll happen." He grinned.

"And what happens if this date goes well?" Dean pressed. "What, you're going to be in a _relationship _with this chick? Guys like us can't really _be _in relationships, Punk. You know that. What are you gonna tell her when she asks what you do for a living? Or if she asks to meet your co-workers or something? You're going to have to lie to her. Your whole relationship will be based on lies. And what if something happens to her? Fuck, if they find out about her, and they want to use her, and-"

"Oh, come on!" Punk snapped. "None of that is going to happen!" He sighed. "Yeah, I'll have to lie. But so what? What she doesn't know won't hurt her. It'll be fine, man. You worry too much."

"No, I'm just remembering what happened the last few times any of us had a decent relationship," Dean shot back. "Remember my ex, Lisa? Or Seth's old girlfriend, Sammy? As soon as either of 'em figured out that we all weren't exactly nine-to-fivers, they split faster than my old man when my mom threatened him with commitment. Face it, Punk. This won't end well. Shit like this never has."

His words brought Punk a sobering realization. Dean was right; Punk knew he was. He knew he should pick up the phone right now and tell her it was a mistake, letting her down gently. But even the thought of never seeing her again brought a sharp pain up his spine. He couldn't do it. Even when every instinct told him it was the right thing… he had to do this.

"I appreciate the concern," Punk said honestly, "but I think I can handle it."

Dean sighed. "All right, man," he said, waving him off. "I'll leave you to it, then. I'm meeting the guys for drinks in a few anyway."

"One of you better be staying dry to drive the rest of you home," Punk warned. "I won't be available to play taxi service tonight."

"Relax, mom," Dean assured him. "Colt is tonight's designated driver." He headed to the door, sidestepping around Clark as he walked. "Later, lover boy."

* * *

Punk pulled up to AJ's apartment building at 7:30 on the nose. He wasn't exactly dressed to impress- she'd liked him for himself so far, and he wasn't about to change that. He wore jeans, a T-shirt with a graphic from Die Hard, a black hoodie and, of course, his trademark Cubs hat. Seth had advised him yesterday to "not dress like a punk"; fuck that. He was going to be himself.

He took the elevator to third floor, finding his way to apartment 312. He knocked confidently; the door opened just a moment later, but before he could say a word, a pint-sized dog bounded through the doorway and started running circles around his legs.

"Nacho, stop that!" AJ ordered, seizing the dog by the collar and yanking him inside. She quickly closed the door behind her, smiling up at him sheepishly. "Sorry. He gets excited around new people. He probably smells Clark on you, too."

He smiled back. "It's fine," he assured her, stepping back as she locked the door. As she turned back to face him, he nearly gasped- he hadn't been prepared for how beautiful she would looked. He'd obviously known since they met that she was attractive, but seeing her dressed and made up just for him somehow made her even more stunning to him than before. Her eager brown eyes twinkled at him.

"So where are we going?" she asked excitedly.

"A pizza place I've been going to for years," he replied as they headed to the elevator. "It's a local joint, not a chain. Best pizza you'll ever have in your life." He paused, turning to her as they waited for the elevator to reach their floor. "That is, if you like pizza." _Fuck, is that even a good idea for a first date restaurant? Am I even doing this right? _The nerves running through his system made it uncomfortably warm inside his own skin. His eagerness to impress this woman he barely knew only confirmed what he suspected before. Maybe it was the vibe she gave off, or the telltale sparkle in her eyes when she looked at him, or the innocent way she tucked her hair behind her ear, but it was something. Something about her made her different than any other girl he'd ever chased after.

* * *

"Wow, you were right!" AJ exclaimed. "This is amazing." She lifted a small, outlying string of cheese from the side of her slice into her mouth. No delivery service in the world could compare to the fresh, homemade taste of Chicago deep dish pizza. There was definitely more to this city than she'd seen so far. "I'm so glad you took me here."

Punk winked at her as he took a sip of his Pepsi. "Told you," he said with a grin. "Great, isn't it?"

"So great," she agreed with a dreamy sigh, finishing off the last of her first slice. She sipped at her soda for a moment, smiling at him over the rim of her glass. It was only then she noticed the small, but still visible cut beneath the cover of his hat. It was just above his right eyebrow, and it didn't look to be very old, either. "Hey, how did you get that?"

"Huh?" Punk frowned, his hand flying up to cover the cut. "Oh, this." _Fuck_. He'd thought it was healed enough to not be as conspicuous, but AJ was too observant not to notice. "Oh, it's nothing. It was just an accident at work."

"Oh, I have plenty of those," she assured him. "Only they're usually claw scratches." She paused. "Hey, speaking of work, what do you for a living, anyway? You already know where I work." She smiled.

And there it was. He'd known this would come up eventually. What was he going to say? Maybe Dean was right… _No! _He could dig his way out of this… What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her, right? "I work in a warehouse," he answered, delivering his carefully prepared lie. "I got nicked with a box cutter the other day." At least that part was true.

"That must be pretty draining," she said, grabbing another slice for her plate.

"Well, sometimes," he admitted. "But I'm the loading dock manager. I don't do much stocking or moving boxes anymore." It bothered him a little how easily the lies rolled off his tongue. But he supposed he was used to telling so many now.

"Oh, so you're in management!" She smiled. "That's great. Do your friends work with you? It seems like they hang around you a lot. What were their names again…?"

"Dean, Seth, and Roman," he replied. "Yeah, they're warehouse workers."

"Must be nice to work with friends," she mused sadly, after swallowing another bite. "I don't really have any friends here yet. I've only been here for a few months."

"What brought you to Chicago, anyway?" Punk asked, grateful to be steering the topic away from himself. "Where are you from?"

"New Jersey," she replied. "Born and raised. I came here because…" She sighed, rubbing her elbow awkwardly. She'd hoped she wouldn't have to get into this so soon, but she couldn't dodge the question. Her first instinct had been to be rather vague about it, but what was the point in being evasive with him? "My fiancé and I broke up. It was pretty public, and we lived in one of those kind of small everyone-knows-everyone towns, so I felt like everyone knew about it. It was awful trying to deal with all of that. And most of my friends except for the one I grew up with end up being more his friends than they were mine… I just had to get out of there and get a fresh start. I started looking up job openings in other animal hospitals, and found the one here. Chicago seemed like it was far enough away, so I just picked up and left." She fell silent, wincing as she looked up at him. "Too much?"

He leaned forward on his elbows. "Too much?" he asked. "No, no. Don't worry about it. I asked, after all. Shit, I just can't believe how hard that must be, picking up your entire life and moving so far away like that." He grinned. "I just hope this doesn't mean I'm a pity rebound date."

"Oh, no, no!" she assured him quickly. "No, that's not it at all!"

He laughed. "Don't worry, I'm only kidding."

After dinner, they went to see the new Resident Evil movie. As they waited for it to start, Punk listened calmly as AJ recounted Resident Evil history for him. He wasn't much of a gamer himself, but listening to her talk about it with such enthusiasm was just… adorable. _'Adorable', _he thought. _Really? Fuck. First I get a kitten, and now I'm thinking a chick is adorable. What the hell has she done to me? I haven't even fucked her yet. Get a grip, Punk._

"I mean, the movies stray pretty far from the games," AJ continued, "but they're still great on their own. It makes it so you can watch them without needing any background." She paused for a moment before looking back up at him. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I must be boring the hell out of you." She sighed, running a nervous hand through her hair. "I'm a wreck."

But he only smiled. "AJ," he said, "_relax_."

* * *

AJ laughed heartily as they walked to the parking lot, her fingers laced through his as his arm was draped around her shoulders. No one had ever been able to make her laugh so genuinely the way he did, and it had only contributed to how relaxing the evening had been for her. She smiled up at him dreamily as they reached the car.

Punk leaned back against the door. She was so happy… Since when had he ever been able to make a woman happy, aside from in bed? Part of him wanted to keep going. _Let's go back to my place. _The words remained unspoken on his lips, threatening to spill out at any moment. He wanted her so badly, but what if he screwed this up? He'd promised himself _and _made it a point to tell his friends that he wasn't going to handle this the way he always did. No, that wasn't happening. He bit back a sigh; he would let his desires get the best of him this time.

"I'll take you home," he said finally, opening the door for her.

* * *

"I had a great time tonight," AJ told him as they reached her door. Then she chuckled. "I know that sounds so stupid and cliché, but I had to say it. I haven't had a night out like that in a long time."

"I'm glad I could show you a good time," he said, smiling back.

Her heart started beating faster and faster as she looked up at him, and she bit her lower lip nervously. She'd never felt so bold and confident, and yet so scared at the same time… but she knew if she didn't get the words out, she'd never say it. "Who said it has to end?" she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"AJ-" he started, but before he could say another word, she pressed her lips against his.

The electricity that jumped between them was almost too intense. He couldn't help himself; he had to respond to her, his arms sliding around her waist as he kissed her back. She leaned back against her apartment door, tilting her chin up to capture his lower lip between her teeth. A low growl rumbled in his throat and he pulled her tight against him, hungry for her. Oh, how he needed this… needed her. She was so beautiful and, for some reason, mesmerized by him. His hands descended lower on her hips, thumbs hooking through the belt loops of her jeans… and then he stopped, pulling back.

"Punk?" she asked, looking up at him with concern.

He ran a thumb over her cheek. "I had a great time tonight too," he said, "but I think I should go home."

"Okay," she said dejectedly, looking down as he stepped back. _I screwed this up, _she thought. _I knew it. I moved too fast or too slow or something. Or I was too clingy. I knew-_

"Goodnight," he told her, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Goodnight," she whispered back as he walked down the hallway. She turned to unlock her door, planning on calling up Kaitlyn as soon as she got out of these clothes, but just as she opened the door, she heard his voice again.

"AJ?" he called.

"Yeah?" she asked, turning around.

"Phil."

She frowned. "What's that?"

"My name is Phil." He smiled. "I'll call you tomorrow. Goodnight, AJ."


	5. Chapter 5

AJ's heart was singing as she changed out of her clothes. _Phil_. His name was Phil. It was the greatest gift he could have given her tonight, entrusting her with a secret he told almost no one. She would treasure it. She didn't even think being politely turned down to spend the night together could put a damper on her mood. She couldn't wait to call Kaitlyn in the morning… or to hear from Punk, either.

"Well, Nacho," she said with a sigh as she slipped into a pair of shorts and a thin T-shirt, "maybe this city isn't as bad as I thought after all. Maybe I made the right decision to move here." The dog yipped in response, clambering up to take his place at the foot of her bed.

But as she climbed into bed, the same old nagging thoughts started creeping into the back of her mind. _It was _one _date, _said a cruel voice. _Getting a little ahead of yourself, don't you think? _ _He didn't even want to have sex with you, and you practically threw yourself at him! Face it. You're just a scared little girl on the rebound. He doesn't want you, no one does. That's why Daniel cheated on you, and-_

"Stop!" she nearly shrieked, clutching her blankets. She looked down at Nacho, who'd been startled by her outburst. "None of that's true, right? None of that's true."

* * *

"So," Dean said casually, "how long did it take you to drop your noble white knight convictions and fuck her senseless after your little 'date?'"

Punk scoffed at his friend, turning to glare at him for only a moment before turning his attention back to the road. "For your information," he informed him, "I didn't."

"Damn it!" Dean growled, pounding his fist against the dashboard.

Seth strained against his seatbelt with triumphant laughter. "Pay up," he ordered, sticking his hand over the seat and waving it in front of Dean expectantly. Grumbling, Dean fished a fistful of cash out of his pocket and shoved it into Seth's hand.

"What's all this about?" Punk asked, slightly amused.

"They made a bet," Roman explained boredly. "$50 for whether or not you got laid." He rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I don't know what their obsession is with the status of your dick."

"Yeah, kind of weird," Punk agreed with a teasing grin to them both. But their jokes couldn't bother him this morning. No, he was on top of the world today. Last night, he'd managed to get through an entire date with a woman without offending her or just bringing her back to his place for a fun evening, never to see her again when the morning came. He'd thought he'd never be able to resist his own desires, but somehow, making an honest effort for her was far more important than just having one good night.

"Whatever," Dean muttered. He was sore about losing bets. "Why are we going to Colt's, anyway?"

"New shipment info," Punk replied. "I texted you this last night."

"We were drunk last night," Seth reminded him helpfully.

Punk sighed as he pulled into Colt's driveway. "Right."

"Thanks for coming to the first national bank of Cabana," Colt announced jovially as he met them all at the door. "Come on in, assholes." He held the door open as they trudged inside. He was the fifth and somewhat proxy member of their group. He didn't often accompany them into the field, but he was usually the one they turned to for information from their bosses. He handled their finances and any special 'orders' they needed to put through.

"Did the transfer go through okay?" Punk asked, taking a seat on the couch.

"Got the confirmation from Mexico a few days ago," Colt replied with a nod. Then he laughed. "Trust me, you would have heard from me by now if it didn't."

"Do you really need us for this?" Dean practically whined. "Punk will just tell us, anyway."

Colt rolled his eyes. "You boys can go play with the new toys I got you, if you want," he said, jerking his thumb toward the other room.

Dean's eyes lit up like a small child's. "You got my new scope in for my rifle?" he asked hopefully.

Colt nodded. "Seth's silencer, too," he added.

"Anything for me?" Roman asked.

"Grip for your pistol. It's in the office. Go on, now." He beckoned to the other room again and the three disappeared. He sighed as he watched them. "Why aren't they as jaded as we are yet?"

"They're young," Punk replied, sinking back into the couch cushions.

"We're not exactly old," Colt pointed out.

"33 isn't old?" Punk asked with a frown. "I feel like that's old." He shook his head. "Whatever. But they _are _almost eight years younger than us. And they all grew up together. They have fond childhood memories and all that to look back on. We don't. We've been scum all our lives."

"Sometimes I think we shouldn't have brought them on," Colt muttered after a moment's thought. "They were only 16. They could have had something better."

"Maybe," Punk agreed, "but they were already getting into bad shit by the time we got our hands on them. They would have gone down a bad path anyway- a worse one. Hell, who knows what they might be doing by now if they weren't with us."

"I guess." Colt sighed again. "I just wonder if maybe they weren't born for this like we were." He shook his head. "Fuck, this shit is depressing. I don't want to talk about this. Hey!" He slapped his friend's shoulder. "Tell me about the girl. Dean was going on and on last night about how bobble-headed you are over this chick you've known for a week. How did it go last night?"

Punk laughed. It always came back to this, and he was glad it was; he couldn't get her off his mind. But right now wasn't the time for that. He had to stop thinking like some high school kid and get business squared away quickly, so he could get on with calling her later as promised. "I'll tell you later," he said. "Come on, give me the new shipment info so I can move forward with my day."

* * *

"Phil?" Kaitlyn mused, as though she were testing it out. "That's a cute name. So I'm guessing it went well! Come on, tell me everything!"

AJ laughed, readjusting her phone against her ear as she loaded her laundry into the washing machine. "It went _amazing_," she gushed. "He… he _listened _to me, Kaitlyn. He hung on my every word. And he wasn't just pretending to be interested, either, because I practically tried to jump him when we got back to my apartment and he turned me down. But-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, you _what_?" Kaitlyn asked, cutting her off. "You tried to-"

"Yes, all right?" AJ snapped. "But that's not the point. The point is that he's different. Maybe it's because I haven't known him since I was three like everyone else we grew up with. He doesn't know my family or what I was like during my awkward teenage years or anything like that. I even told him the shortened version of why I moved out here in the first place, and he didn't freak out or think I was just looking for a rebound date!" She sighed, adding detergent before closing the lid and turning on the spin cycle. "I'm really excited, Kait. For the first time in awhile."

She could hear the smile in her best friend's voice. "I'm glad," Kaitlyn replied. "Really. But, about more important things… when are you coming to visit me?"

AJ laughed. "Well- hold on a second. I've got another call." Her eyes widened at her phone. "It's him! I've got to call you back, okay?"

"You sound like you're 15," Kaitlyn said with a chuckle. "All right, you brat, but you'd better call me!"

"I will, I will," AJ promised. "Bye!" She quickly switched calls so she didn't miss him, her heart almost skipping a beat. "Hello?"

"Hey!"

AJ's heart swelled; he sounded as cheerful as ever, and part of her was still a little surprised he'd called as promised. "Hi," she replied sheepishly, quickly ashamed that she couldn't come up with anything better to say. "What's up?"

"Not much," he answered. "I just finished up at work. I was wondering, if I wasn't too much of an asshole last night, if you might want to… I don't know, get lunch with me or something? My treat, since you paid for lunch last time."

She could imagine his crooked, enticing smile on the other end of the line. "No, Punk, you weren't an asshole," she informed with a chuckle. "Of course I'll have lunch with you." Then she frowned. "Or should I call you Phil now?"

He laughed. "Depends," he replied. "Can I call you April?"

She instinctively made a face, sticking out her tongue even though he couldn't see her. "Oh, no way! I don't like that name. That's why I go by AJ."

He had to be smirking now; she was sure of it. "Then I think we'll stick to Punk."

"Punk it is." She curled one leg under her as she sat on the edge of her bed. A smile spread across her face; this was really happening. He wanted to see her again. The loneliness that had plagued her since moving to Chicago and the painful reason why she'd left her home in the first place were starting to fade. Her new life here was really beginning. "So, where are we going?"


	6. Chapter 6

Punk couldn't remember the last time he'd gone so long without sex.

His usual "dry spells", as he liked to call them, lasted no longer than a couple of weeks. He would usually find a woman at whatever bar or club the gang dragged him to, and use his devilish bad-boy wiles to charm her into his bed. They would either go back to his place or hers; sometimes, he could even convince her to just go right to her car. Afterwards, he would be ashamed of himself for taking advantage of her less-inhibited state due to being slightly inebriated, sighing to himself as he returned cart Dean, Seth, and Roman's drunk asses home. And then he would do it all over the next week.

But a month and a half into his relationship with AJ, Punk still had yet to make a move on her. They'd fooled around a few times, making out on her couch or in his car, but he always put a stop to things before they went too far. He knew this puzzled her; usually, the situation was quite the opposite. But he was so desperate to make this relationship last and meaningful. He had a real, committed girlfriend now. He wasn't willing to mess things up just to get laid, and it didn't take him long to figure out why.

He was falling in love with this nerdy girl from New Jersey, and that terrified him.

* * *

AJ felt like she'd finally settled into her new life in Chicago. It had taken months of loneliness and trial and error trying to break free of the pain that bound her heart to Union City, but everything seemed to be falling into place now. She was fitting in nicely at work, making casual friends with the other vets, the techs, and the receptionist. Her apartment felt more like home, rather than just the place she went to after work because she had nowhere else to go. She wasn't beholden to her parents anymore, listening to her mother telling her to find a more worthwhile career and her father telling her to get over Daniel and find someone to settle down with already. And Daniel! She barely even thought about him anymore. Punk was healing the wounds Daniel had left behind.

It did confuse her a bit, though, that he hadn't tried to sleep with her yet. Isn't that what most men wanted, to sleep with their girlfriends? She supposed so, but she hadn't slept with anyone else since Daniel, the older college boy who'd won her over easily with his forbidden allure, took her virginity in her senior year of high school. Didn't Punk… want her? He certainly seemed to, as each night they spent together they went just a little bit further. But they never went all the way. She'd never wanted a man like this before, and even that feeling scared her just a little. She wanted so badly to share all of herself with him. What was holding him back?

She tried to push her thoughts away when she heard the doorbell ring. "Hey, you," she said with a smile as she opened the door. Before she could say another word Punk gathered her into his arms and gave her a long, eager kiss, the bill of his hat knocking against her forehead. He always greeted her with such enthusiasm; it made her heart flutter.

"Hey, yourself," he replied when he finally pulled back. "Ready to go?"

"Just let me get my jacket." She turned to grab her usual zip-up hoodie, quickly putting it on; fall nights in Chicago were cold and windy. Luckily for her, she had someone to keep her warm. Smiling to herself, she zipped it up. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"Some taco place Seth's been talking about forever," he answered, bending to pet Nacho.

"Seth?" she echoed. "So am I finally meeting your friends for real this time?"

"For real," he confirmed as he held the door open for her. He closed it, and she locked it. "They've been bugging me to meet you for weeks. I've been putting it off because they're assholes and I don't want them to scare you off, but they're at the point of ambushing you one day, so I've got to get it over with."

She chuckled. "They're not going to scare me off," she assured him, slipping her hand into his. "I'm excited to meet your friends. I think it's cute they care so much about what's going on in your life."

"Trust me, you'll be rolling your eyes soon," he said. "And you haven't even met Colt yet."

* * *

"So, Seth, why do you dye your hair like that?" AJ asked, gesturing to the two-toned blonde and brown hair that was tied up at the base of his skull.

The table fell silent. Dean, Roman, and Punk each exchanged weary glances while Seth stared straight ahead at AJ. His gaze never wavered from her as he slowly lifted a tortilla chip to his mouth, placing it inside and crunching it menacingly. "I like it that way," he replied coolly. "Why?"

"No reason, really," AJ answered casually, completely unaware of the tension surrounding the table. "I was just wondering. I like it." She smiled sweetly.

"Oh!" Seth smiled back. "Good."

Dean, Roman, and Punk uttered a collective sigh. AJ frowned, tilting her head slightly as she studied them. "What's the big deal?" she asked curiously.

Punk leaned over to get close to her. "He gets really offended when people make fun of his hair," he whispered in her ear.

"Oh," AJ whispered back with a nod.

"I think I like this one, Punk," Seth announced happily, pointing at her with another chip before popping it in his mouth. "I like her a lot."

"So do I," Punk replied with a chuckle, putting an arm around her and squeezing her shoulder.

"So you all call him Punk?" AJ asked. "Have you always called him Punk? Do you ever call him Phil?"

Again, an eerie silence swept across them. But this time, it was quickly broken by Dean. "_What_?" he howled. "You're kidding! He told you his name? Already? Damn!" He smacked his hand on the table. "Let me tell you, AJ. We've all known this guy since we were 16. You want to know how we found out his real name? When I was 18, he left his wallet in my car and I snuck a peak at his driver's license. This man's real name is a better kept secret than insider trading at the stock exchange."

"He must really, _really _like you," Roman observed, finishing off the last of his taco.

AJ smiled at all of them over the rim of her soda glass. She didn't know why Punk had been so worried about her meeting his friends; they appeared to like her, she definitely liked them. Dean, Seth, and Roman were certainly an interesting bunch, and one she knew she would enjoy getting to know further. They seemed to be very supportive of Punk and his relationship endeavors, which was more than she ever could have said for Daniel.

* * *

"I had a great time," AJ said as they reached her apartment. "I'm really glad I finally got to meet your friends. They're all just hilarious."

Punk laughed. "I'm glad you can tolerate the assholes I hang around with," he replied.

"Are you kidding?" she asked, turning to unlock her door. "I love them!"

"Good," he said with a smile. "So are we still on for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Of course. But…" She paused, removing her key and leaning back against the unlocked door. "I have an idea. What if we have it here, instead of going out?" She could only hope her slyness would slip by him.

But he was no fool; he knew exactly what she was getting at. "AJ…" he intoned.

"Punk," she said softly, reaching out to cup his cheek, "please. What are you afraid of?"

"Messing this up," he replied. "I've finally got something good going, for the first time in… fuck, who knows how long? What if we do this, and you hate me afterward?" He wanted so badly to follow her inside that apartment and give them both what they needed so desperately from each other. She was aching for him just as much as he was for her; that much was clear, just by the look on her face. But what if it went wrong? He couldn't bear to lose her…

"I could never hate you," she said firmly. "I promise." She twisted the knob behind her and pushed the door open, then took him by the hand and led him back into the apartment. He closed it behind them, turning to face her as she framed his face between her delicate hands. Her eyes, dark and deep with emotion, gazed into the green, cerebral ones that stared back at her.

"Kiss me," she whispered. He did, and there was no turning back. His arms slipped around her waist, locking in a perfect fit at the small of her back. Her lips moved effortlessly over his as she deftly removed his hat, casting it aside as though this were an old dance for both of them. She dragged her fingers through his thick, slicked back hair; he shivered. He would never admit it, but he'd never been this nervous with a woman before. None of them had mattered as much as her.

Somehow, they found themselves in her kitchen. He wasn't sure how they ended up there, but it didn't matter. He was driven purely by his passion for her, one that was evident by how impatiently he pawed at her clothes. She dropped her arms from around his neck just long enough to shrug out of her jacket, pulling his off as well. But there were still too many layers of clothing between them and bare skin. She ached to feel his warm, tender flesh against her own, and tugged almost angrily at the bottom of his shirt. A chuckle bubbled between their lips, and he pulled back to raise his arms for her. With an eager grin she stripped the shirt off, looking up to see his gleaming chest for the first time.

"Wow," she whispered with a gasp, running her fingertips all along the impressive artwork that spanned the top half of his torso. She was taken aback by the intricate designs that jumped out at her, the rich colors that brought them to life. "It's… it's beautiful."

In response, he reached for her Harley Quinn top and pulled it over her head, revealing the lacy black bra beneath. "_You're _beautiful," he murmured, pulling her against him. She nearly cried out as their skin touched; it was so hot, she was sure his Straight Edge tattoo would leave a scar on her own unblemished stomach. Tears formed in her eyes as his thumb brushed the bottom of her chin, tipping it up so he could capture her lips with his once again. As her smooth palms explored the expanse of his back, he had to admit to himself- he'd never felt such chemistry with any woman before. He'd never felt this homemade electricity that sparked between them, trapping their torsos together. No, she was definitely something else. She fit so perfectly against his body, this small and delicate little thing that was so ravenously hungry for him. He had to let go of his fear, and just take her.

He let out a low, throaty growl as he kissed his way down her neck, finding his way to the golden skin of her collarbone. His hands, meanwhile, were descending to her waistline. "These," he murmured against her skin in a demanding tone, tugging at her jeans. "These have to go." He unbuckled her belt, pushing her jeans down over her hips in a swift motion. She shimmied them down her legs, stepping out of them and even closer into his embrace. Now, it was her turn to shiver. She wanted him, yes, but she had only ever been this bare before one other man. No one else had ever seen her body in such a vulnerable state… but even as she felt his hand find its way over her panties, she trusted him. He wouldn't just take advantage of her body and cast her aside when he was done; he would take care of her.

She let out a gasp as his fingers slowly, one by one climbed over the lacy fabric and tangled themselves in her dark, damp curls. "Punk…" she whispered breathlessly, her nails sinking into his shoulders as his index finger flicked teasingly at her entrance.

"Yeah?" he muttered back, his breath hot in her ear. He slipped his finger between her quivering folds; she instantly flushed with heat and warmth.

"S-stop teasing me… please…" she stammered weakly, nearly crumpling against his chest as he rocked his index finger back and forth.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, her obvious pleasure bring a smirk to his face. He angled his wrist to penetrate her even deeper, and she let out a stifled cry. "Or what?"

She pushed him back, causing him to yank his hand away. Before he could say a word she was already down on her knees, tearing at his belt buckle and unzipping his fly. "AJ-" he started, but as she pulled his hardened member through his boxers, he could manage only a pleasurable groan. He stumbled back against the refrigerator as she took him into her mouth, sliding her tongue up and down the length of him. He grabbed at the door handle behind him, struggling for purchase; she'd rendered him just as much a fool with her slow, tantalizing movements. His head smacked back against the refrigerator door, eyes drifting shut. He could feel every vein in his body pulsating, threatening to explode at any moment.

"AJ…" he moaned, threading his fingers through her hair. "Oh, fuck." He hadn't been prepared for such a fierce, take-charge version of this girl… but oh, how he loved it. He knew he had to stop her soon, or this encounter would be over before it even began. Grasping her shoulders, he pulled her back. She released him and stood up, an action that left him weak at the knees.

"Yes?" she asked, a pleased smirk spreading across her face.

"Come here," he ordered huskily. He seized her by the waist, lifting her onto the kitchen counter behind her and tearing her panties down. Reaching into his pocket, he fumbled for his wallet and flipped it open to find the condom stashed there. He hurriedly tore it open with his teeth, spitting out the upper half of the package. She watched, eyes half-lidded with lust as he sheathed himself, his jeans still only halfway down his hips. This was it; all of his fears and reservations were gone now. This was right, for both of them. As soon he was covered he grabbed her thighs, pulling her toward him and thrusting inside her.

A tiny, feathered moan escaped her as he finally entered her. He filled her completely; they fit together, like a puzzle and its missing piece. She had never felt so… _whole_. Finally, _finally_, that gaping wound a heartless soul had left behind was healed, and somehow, he'd been the one to heal it.

"Fuck," he hissed, a jolt firing through his whole body. "You're so tight, baby…"

"But it feels so good," she groaned, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "Oh, Punk, I…"

"I know," he muttered in her ear as he pumped in and out, in and out. "Me too." They found their glorious rhythm together, her ankles locking around his back. He didn't want this to end. He wanted to fill her forever, to stay as this safe and satisfying place he'd found with her. But it couldn't last. The sweet, warm flesh that surrounded him was coaxing him to his release. He could already feel her reaching her peak, his name falling from her lips as she tightened around him over and over again. With a final growl he let himself go, sinking his teeth into her shoulder as he finished.

"Still… like… me?" he asked hopefully between heavy pants, lifting his head to look at her.

"Like?" she breathed back. "_Love_. I… I love you."

A relieved smile formed. "Good," he whispered. His next words would scare him, but he said them anyway. "I… I love you, too."


	7. Chapter 7

"You told her _what_?" Colt shrieked.

"Thanks for the support, Colt," Punk replied dryly.

"Wow," Colt muttered, massaging his forehead. "Wow. Dude, do you have any idea what you've done?"

"I believe I told my girlfriend I love her," Punk answered calmly. "What's the problem with that? Afraid she's moved in on your territory? Aw, Colt. I'm flattered you care so much."

"Punk, cut it out," Colt snapped. "I'm serious. For once. Just listen to me. You're getting too close to this chick, man. _Way _too close. What were you thinking? What if she wants to move in with you? You can't base operations from your place if she's there. And your 'warehouse job'. What happens when she starts to question it? How long are you going to keep lying to her? What if she finds out, and turns us all in to the fucking FBI or something? Have you even stopped to think about any of this at all?"

Punk was taken aback by how blunt Colt had been. Why couldn't he just be happy for him? "None of that's gonna happen!" he insisted. "You're overreacting for no reason. I just…" He sighed, trying to find the right words. He knew Colt meant well, but… "I want to be in a relationship, all right? Is that really so bad? What's the harm? She doesn't need to know, and what she doesn't know won't hurt her."

"The harm is that your entire relationship is based on lies," Colt reminded him. "Punk, listen. She could get hurt. We're not good people, the five of us. We do bad things for bad people. The closer she gets, the greater the chance that-"

"I'm not having this conversation anymore," Punk decided, cutting him off abruptly. He refused to even consider the possibility of AJ somehow getting hurt. He didn't want to think about it. It wasn't going to happen. She would be safe with him always, because he would protect her. Right?

* * *

Five. That was how many glorious, wonderful months AJ had spent with Punk so far. It was the middle of March now, and as the cold weather began to subside, their passion for each other only grew. After the first night they spent together, the floodgates opened. He was absolutely ravenous for her, craving every inch of her against him. Sometimes, he treated her delicately, gently peeling her clothes away and loving her to the brink of tears. Other times, he was wild, tossing her roughly on the bed and making her cry out his name. He made her feel things-such intense, ecstatic things-she hadn't even known her body was capable of experiencing. No, she'd never known physical joy quite like this before.

But it wasn't just the sex. While she didn't exactly have many serious relationships under her belt for comparison, somehow she just knew they were meant for each other. His sarcasm and dry humor never failed to coax bubbly laughter out of her. His friends were always great company, too. Dean, Seth, Roman, and Colt were a riot, even if Punk didn't seem to think so. He always humored her when she needed a co-op player, picking up a controller and joining her in whatever game was her flavor of the month. With the massive overlap in their interests, they never ran out of things to talk about- but sometimes, they didn't need to talk at all. Both of them were more than content to just curl up together, enjoying each other's company in silence as they watched movies or played with Clark and Nacho.

And yet, amidst all the perfection, something just wasn't quite right.

In the beginning, AJ didn't even notice. It was still too early on, and neither of them had each other's patterns down quite yet. But as the relationship progressed, she slowly began to pick up on it. She tried to ignore it at first, but soon the signs were just too glaring not to pay attention to. And once she started putting things together, the thoughts floating around in her head made her heart sink.

Was the undoubted love of her life cheating on her?

She didn't want to believe it, but his behavior was just too suspect for her to ignore the possibility. He was extremely secretive- always making hushed phone calls, dropping everything at a moment's notice to go meet his 'friends' or fulfill a work obligation. His work hours seemed too strange to be true- he never appeared to have anything close to a concrete schedule, always disappearing at random times to go to the warehouse. And that was another thing- the 'warehouse'. Punk was very vague about just what company owned this warehouse he claimed he and his friends worked at. He never named the business, nor did Dean, Seth, Roman, or Colt. The four of them were just as secretive as their ring leader, and it bothered her to no end. What was he really doing? Who was he talking to?

Every time she thought about it, her heart leapt to her throat. He was so kind, tender, and loving with her. He hung on her every word. He even stopped by her apartment to walk her dog when she knew she would be coming home late from work. How could a man so seemingly dedicated to her clearly be hiding so much from her?

Again, she tried to push it out of her mind and convince herself she was just being paranoid. She didn't even talk to Kaitlyn about it, as though voicing her concerns would somehow make them real. But deep down, she knew she couldn't hold it in forever. As their six month anniversary drew nearer, she made up her mind that she was going to confront him.

"AJ, I'm here!" Punk called as he entered, closing the door behind him (he had a key to her apartment; she didn't have one to his).

"I'm in here," she called back from the bedroom. She was watching TV, having sat there listlessly most of the day as she prepared for the inevitable argument that she knew would ensue. Nacho immediately jumped off the bed at the sound of Punk's voice, rushing to greet him eagerly.

"Hey," he said as he appeared in the doorway, tiny dog sitting happily in his arms. "Is everything okay?"

"No," she replied sternly, sitting up and turning the TV off. "Sit down. We need to talk."

He swallowed hard. "Oh boy," he said as he followed her instruction, sitting on the edge of the bed and putting the dog down. "Those words are poison. What did I do? I know I forgot to get you ice cream yesterday, but-"

"Stop," she ordered, holding up her hand. She couldn't afford to lose her nerve. "This is important."

Realizing now that she was serious, he scooted a little closer to her. "What's wrong?" he asked, his expression one of genuine concern. He placed a hand over hers. "You can tell me anything, baby. You know that."

"Yeah, but _you _can't," she muttered ruefully.

"Huh?" He raised his eyebrows, clearly confused. "Okay, what's going on?"

"I need you to tell me the truth," she replied sternly. "Punk… are you cheating on me?"

He instantly shot up from the bed, backing up toward the door. "_What_?" he cried, almost angrily. "Seriously? No, AJ! Of course not! I would never cheat on you, I love you!" He threw up his hands, exasperated. "How could you even think I would betray you like that?"

"You're acting just like him," she spat, standing as well. "Just like Daniel. Making secret phone calls and texts, never letting me show up at your apartment unannounced, running off at all hours of the night. I've been cheated on before, Punk. I know all the signs. I won't be made a fool of again!"

"AJ, no," he pleaded, coming forward to take her hand. "I would never, ever do that to you, baby. I promise. Please, you have to believe me."

"How can I believe you if don't tell me the truth?" she shot back, pulling her hand away. "Where are you going in the middle of the night? Where do you really work? Who are you calling who's so important you can never tell me who you're on the phone with? Why don't I have a key to your place, but you have a key to mine? Why can we never eat together on my lunch break near _your _job? Answer me! I want to know the truth, and I want to know now!"

She was panting by the end of her long-winded demand, eyebrows narrowed. It was then Punk knew- this had to happen sooner or later. AJ was no fool. How could he be so stupid as to think she would go along with his lies forever, content to be in the dark about almost everything in his life? But he couldn't tell her. He _couldn't_. She couldn't know.

"I… I have to go," he muttered suddenly, turning around.

"Punk, wait!" she cried as he headed to the door. "Don't walk away from me!"

But he was already out the door.


	8. Chapter 8

Punk made a mad dash for his car, fumbling for his phone as he did so. He couldn't believe this had happened- and yet, it wasn't that hard to understand. How long did he really think he could have kept this up, anyway? She may not have hit the nail right on the head, but it didn't matter that she didn't know the real reason. He was a fraud, and AJ saw right through him. He was furious at himself. What if he'd lost her, because he was too foolish to realize what he should have done in the first place?

"Come on, come on…" he growled impatiently into the phone as he crammed his car key haphazardly into the lock. "Come _on_!" He jerked the door open, scrambling inside and slamming it closed. His chest was heaving; none of the life-threatening situations he'd been in before could even come close to comparing how this made his heart pound.

"Hello?" Dean mumbled.

_Finally_! "I fucked up," Punk moaned. "I fucked up so bad, Dean. I don't know what to do."

Dean sat straight up; he'd never heard Punk so distressed before. "What happened?" he asked, alarmed. "Did Colt call? Did something happen in Mexico? Did-"

"No, no, nothing like that," Punk cut in rapidly. "It's… AJ."

Dean blinked. "You called me for girl advice? Since when-"

"Damn it, Dean, this isn't a joke!" Punk snapped, shocking him into silence. "She… she asked me if I was cheating on her. She blew up on me."

"Well," Dean said calmly, "are you?"

"No!" Punk growled. "Of course not."

"Relax. I had to ask. You are a bit of a womanizer, after all. But if you're not, then what's the problem?"

"You don't get it," Punk replied urgently. "She asked because she said I'm 'always so secretive'. She may not know what's actually going on, but god damn it, she knows I'm not being honest!"

"Fuck," Dean groaned. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! Punk, you can't tell her. You can't. I know you love her and you want to be with her, but you had to know this was going to happen sooner or later. Even Colt said so, didn't he? You just have to cut your losses and move on, okay? You can't tell her. You just _can't_!"

"But I can't just let her go!" Punk cried, exasperated. "I have to do something… I just don't know what."

"Punk, whatever you're thinking, you can't," Dean warned. "You-"

"_Fuck_!" He threw his phone into the passenger seat, slamming his hands against the steering wheel in frustration. He could feel every vein pulsing rapidly. He'd never felt so helpless and out of control. He was _always _in control of what was happening in his life, whether it be with a knife, a gun, his fists, or the words out of his mouth. But this time, he was completely vulnerable.

He remained in the parking garage of AJ's building for a few moments longer, fuming. When he calmed down enough to drive, he hurried out of the neighborhood as fast as he could without breaking too many laws. He didn't even know where he was going; he just had to get away. But before long, he found himself turning onto Colt's street. It didn't surprise him. He often turned to Colt to lighten his mood, when Dean or Seth or Roman didn't provide him the advice he needed.

Colt opened the door for him before Punk could even knock. "Dean called," he explained, stepping back to allow him inside. Punk ducked his head almost shamefully and entered, stopping in the middle of the living room. He buried his head in his hands and sighed.

"So," Colt asked casually, leaning back against the closed door with folded arms, "what's your plan?"

"I don't know," Punk muttered. "I don't have one." He sighed, lifting his head. "I don't know what to do. I'm going to lose her if I don't think of something, and fast."

"I told you this would happen," Colt reminded him. "I told you the lies would catch up to you, didn't I?" He raised an eyebrow comically, but his tone was completely serious.

"I know!" Punk shouted, lifting his head finally. "I fucking know that, all right? I knew it from the day I first fucking told her I worked at a warehouse. But I…" He paused, trying to remind himself to breathe. "I didn't want to believe it. And now it's all fucking crashing down!" He sank back into the couch with an angry, frustrated sigh.

Colt came to sit next to him, always the more level-headed one. "I like AJ, Punk," he said slowly. "I like her a lot. She's a great girl and she's practically become a little sister to all of us. I know she's had a good, kind of calming effect on the boys." Most days it would amuse Punk the way Colt often referred to their younger 'co-workers' as children, but not now.

"And?" Punk snapped, more harshly than he meant to. "What's your point?"

"What I'm saying," Colt replied calmly, "is that telling the truth might be an option here."

At this, Punk did a double-take; he had to. "You can't be serious," he said, with an incredulous laugh. "You're not serious. There's no way. Wasn't it you who said just a few months ago that you were worried she would rat us out if she found out?"

"I did," Colt agreed, "but I didn't know her back then. She's head over heels for you, boy. That girl loves you more than anything in the world and the rest of us have become her family. I know she's a peace-loving chick and all that, but I think the love she has for all of us will overcome her ethics."

Punk swallowed hard. Colt rarely spoke this way; hearing it opened his eyes just a little. "And if she _does _run to the cops?" he pressed. "Or even if she doesn't, what if she's so disgusted she never fucking talks to me again? What then?"

"You'll lose her anyway if you don't," Colt pointed out. "But you have to make a decision."

* * *

AJ-predictably-spent the next several hours pouring endless tears into her pillow, clutching Nacho as she sobbed. She was now certain Punk was having an affair; the way he'd rushed out of the apartment earlier confirmed it for her. In a way, she supposed she shouldn't have been so surprised. The only other man she'd ever loved had done the same. She clearly had a habit of falling in love with losers who were destined to break her heart.

She finally started to doze shortly before midnight, completely emotionally exhausted. But just has her heavy lids began to close over her bloodshot eyes, Nacho burst out of her arms and began to bark. "Oh, why can't you shut up?" she groaned angrily, in a rare moment of anger toward her dog. She rubbed her eyes, sitting up and following the excited dog to the door. "Who is it?"

"AJ, it's me," Punk called urgently through the door.

Her heart skipped a beat. "Go away!" she snapped. "I don't want to talk to you."

"If you don't open the door, I'll use my key," he warned. "It's important. Please, just let me in."

"You son of a bitch!" she growled, but she knew she was serious. She threw the door open and stepped back, arms folded in hostile posturing. "What do you want, Punk? What are you doing here? Here to feed me more of your lies? I don't want to hear them!"

"I'm not," he assured her as he entered. He looked frantic; his hair stuck back at odd ends, and he wasn't even wearing his hat. "I'm here to tell you the truth, and prove to you that I'm not cheating on you. You might not believe me, and you might hate me for it… but if I don't tell you, I'm going to lose you either way."

"I don't understand," she said quietly, stepping back from him. "What's… what's going on?"

"I have to show you something," he replied. "Come with me."


	9. Chapter 9

The drive to Punk's apartment was awkward and silent. Neither of them spoke as Punk weaved his car through the sparse traffic in the late Chicago streets. AJ's eyes never drifted far from Punk's determined face, but she was too terrified of the possibilities to say a single word. What could possibly be his explanation for his lies and his secrets? Did he work for the government? Was he in the witness protection program? Nothing she could think of made sense.

But she didn't have long to mull over possibilities. Punk screeched into the parking lot of his building only a few moments later, shutting the car off and hurrying out. He glanced over his shoulder only once to make sure she was following him, and took off toward his apartment.

Punk's heart raced faster and faster as they entered the elevator together. He couldn't manage to look at her yet; he didn't want her to find the traces of guilt he was sure were present in his eyes. His conversation with Colt had been enough to convince him to admit everything to her, but that didn't mean he was ready for her reaction. He didn't even know how to go about it. What would he say? But there was no turning back now. He had to go through with it. Reaching his door, he fumbled shakily for his keys. It took him three tries to get it in the lock, but he was finally able to get the door open.

Watching him act so nervously only alarmed her even more. He was clearly disturbed by these 'truths' he was about to admit, and just thinking about it caused her to gulp audibly. "Okay," she said finally, her voice catching slightly in her throat as they entered his darkened apartment. Clark, now almost fully grown but still a runt, scurried up to her leg, but she gently shook him off. "What's going on?"

He didn't answer her for a moment, turning instead to find the light switch. He flicked it to illuminate the room. "I have to show you something," he repeated from earlier, his heart pounding wildly against his ribs as he spoke. "But you have to promise me you won't panic and run away when I do. You have to let me explain. Deal?"

"All right, I won't," she replied quietly. She had no choice but to agree to his terms, no matter how much they may have frightened her. Even though she had never been scared of Punk before.

He nodded slowly, turning away from her again. He crossed the living room to reach the closet, reaching for his keys again to unlock it. AJ supposed this was another question that would be answered for her- why on earth he kept his living room closet locked. He opened the door and motioned her forward, bringing her to see the shelves inside. They held the usual items she imagined she'd find in a closet like this- tools, a vacuum cleaner, some household cleaning chemicals, old towels. She frowned. Why did he need to hide all of this?

"I don't understand," she said with a frown.

"There's more," he assured her. He pushed a cardboard box aside and reached for one of the shelf hinges, and to her surprise, pulled the entire shelving unit back easily. It was only then she realized the closet was smaller than she would have believed. The wall behind the shelves was false; there was more to this closet than met the eye. And as the wall swung back… she gasped.

What caught her eyes first on the hidden shelves were the weapons. There were dozens of them- assault rifles, shotguns, hand guns, knives, as well as boxes upon boxes of different types of ammunition. There were folded up bullet-proof vests and other tactical gear, a box of what looked like disposable cell phones, and a duffel bag full of cash.

"Oh my God…" AJ whispered, backing up slowly. This had to be a joke. Surely they were props of some sort? But as soon as the thought entered her mind, she immediately banished it. No, these gleaming guns and stacks of ammo and cash were all horrifyingly real, and suddenly she was more terrified of her boyfriend then she'd ever been of anything or anyone in her entire life. Her stomach was twisted into a pretzel, her throat dry, her lungs desperate for air, her eyes full of tears.

"I know it looks bad," Punk started, but AJ shook her head rapidly before he could continue.

"Bad?" she shrieked, throwing up her hands in disbelief. "What _is_ all of this? What _are _you, Punk? _Who _are you? Are you a killer? Oh, God, you must be a hit man or something… oh my God, I can't… I can't…" Her chest heaved painfully as she stumbled; she could barely breathe.

"Baby, calm down," Punk advised with alarm, rushing to her aid. He'd been afraid of this, and even as he reached to steady her, his heart broke. He knew this had to be the end. This was the consequence of his lies, and he hadn't even gotten into the reasons behind them yet.

"Don't touch me!" she cried, slapping his hands away. "Get away from me! You're… you're a criminal!"

"You're right," he said evenly, standing up straight. There was no other way around it now. He couldn't lie or skirt around it. He just had to be blunt, and get it all out in the open, lest she believe he was some sort of mass murderer. "I am a criminal."

"A criminal," she echoed incredulously. "What kind? Do you rob banks? Are you an assassin? A drug dealer? _Tell me_!" All she wanted to do was get as far away from him as possible, but her feet were rooted to the spot. She had to know.

"The last one was close," he admitted, blood boiling even as he spoke. "I work for one, a Mexican cartel named Alberto Del Rio. I smuggle weapons for him, so his U.S. distributors are well armed. Technically, I'm an arms dealer."

Her ears burned; she couldn't believe what she was hearing. This _had _to be a joke! Or a nightmare. But it just couldn't be real. "You're kidding," she squeaked. "But you're straight edge! How can you work for a drug cartel and claim to be straight edge?"

"I don't do drugs or sell them," he pointed out, eyeing her carefully in case she decided to make a break for it. As much as it would pain him to restrain her or keep her captive, he couldn't let her go if she was going to turn him in. "I just provide the guns."

To his shock, she actually laughed. "And I suppose next you'll tell me Dean, Seth, and Roman work with you too, right?" she asked, letting out another skeptical chuckle. "And Colt?"

"Actually…" he muttered, smoothing back his hair, "they do. We're all part of the same operation."

She laughed again. "You're so full of crap," she said, shaking her head. "There's just no way I fell in love with an international weapons smuggler who tricked me into thinking he was a nice guy with a legitimate career and a law-abiding citizen. There's no way the only people I hang out with in this fucking city all do the same thing."

"I know I lied to you about… what I do for a living," he managed, the vice wrapped around his torso tightening, "but I'm still the same guy. I still save nice girls from creepy assholes in bars, rescue cats, and help old ladies cross the street. I still love you."

"You're _not _the same guy!" she spat, her sarcastic smile falling. "I don't know anything about who you really are! You're… you're scum!"

"I probably deserve that," he replied miserably, looking down.

"You _definitely _deserve it," she shot back. "Have you killed people? Of course you have; you work for a drug dealer! How many, huh? How many people have you sick bastards killed?"

Punk winced. He didn't want to tell her. He wasn't sure if he even knew.

"Oh my God," she gasped, shaking her head furiously. "You've probably killed so many. I can't… I feel… I don't feel good…" Her hand flew to her brow. She stumbled again before finally collapsing.


	10. Chapter 10

"_He's so small," Punk said with a frown. He dangled a toy mouse by the tail above Clark's head, watching as the kitten batted at it with his front paws. "Is something wrong with him?"_

"_I've told you before, he's perfectly healthy," AJ explained patiently, letting out a small chuckle as she watched him play with his beloved pet._

"_But still," he pressed, "he's five months old. He still looks like one of those freshly adoptable kittens from a shelter. Shouldn't he at least be a little bit bigger?"_

"_His parents were probably small," she replied. "And he may have been the runt of the litter. He's fine, I promise." She smiled sweetly. "But I think it's adorable how much you love him."_

_He laughed, yanking the mouse just out of reach before Clark could sink his claws into it. "Adorable, huh?" he asked, sliding a hand casually up her knee._

"_Oh, honey, not in front of Clark," she teased, suppressing a giggle as his hand climbed higher. The cat scrambled away as his owner pushed her gently down on couch, pressing soft kisses up the length of her neck. He was so sweet, and gentle, and tender with her…_

"Oh, Punk," AJ sighed.

"AJ?" Punk asked anxiously. "Are you okay?"

She frowned, her eyes flickering open. "Yeah," she muttered, sitting up slowly. "My head hurts."

"You fell when you fainted," he explained gently. His hand was hovering over her arm.

Surveying her surroundings, she found herself lying on Punk's bed. She frowned; wasn't he supposed to be coming over to her apartment tonight? Why had she fainted?

But it only took a moment for everything to come rushing back to her- the guns, the money, the truth behind the web of lies he'd weaved around their entire relationship. "Get away from me!" she cried, kicking at him frantically. He sprang off the bed, away from her flailing legs.

"AJ, please," Punk begged. "Just-"

"Please _what_?" she snapped irritably, drawing her legs up to her chest and hugging them tightly. "You're a _criminal_, Punk. You're a _killer_, and everyone you associate with is just like you! Do you really expect me to just listen to your story and tell you that everything's okay? It's _not_! I-I should call the cops or something! Who knows how many people have died because of what you've done!"

A sharp pang erupted in his chest… but it wasn't the thought of being turned in that scared him. What hurt the most was seeing how disgusted she was with him, how terrified she was and how desperate she was to get away from him. Maybe the gang had been right after all. Maybe if he'd let her believe he was just another cheating bastard, she would have been able to forget about him and move on. But now, she was trapped in the deadly downward spiral that was his life.

But even as he agonized over her, the alarm bells were ringing in his head. She'd just threatened to turn them all in… and if she did, they would probably be killed before they ever saw the inside of a prison cell. "AJ, think about this," he urged carefully. "You have no idea what the consequences of that would be. It…" He sucked in a tight breath. "It would be a disaster."

"Then tell me why you do this!" she demanded. "Are you just cold-hearted? Do you not care and are just some sort of sociopath and you've been faking it this whole time?"

"No, no, that's not it at all," he assured her quickly. "It's…" He sighed. "Look, there's no good explanation. I'm not delusional, AJ. I know there's no excuse for what I do. I do bad things, and I do them for bad people." He sat down on the edge of the bed. He knew this tale would be painful, but if he didn't tell it, they both might never get out of this. "I've never been cut out for regular life. I've known that since the beginning. My dad was a raging alcoholic, and he never gave a shit about me. I was the mistake that forced him to settle down. I spent my childhood watching him and my mom give my little brother all the opportunities they could, because by the time he came along, they were already stuck. So I got in trouble a lot. I got into fights at school and I got arrested and I didn't give a damn about what anyone thought of me. The day I graduated high school, I moved in with Colt and never looked back. He had the grades to get college scholarships, but I didn't. We got an apartment together and while he went to school, I worked whatever dead-end job I could find."

AJ had been listening the whole time in stunned silence as he told her the twisted tale of his childhood. "Then how did you end up working for a Mexican cartel?" she asked, confused.

"I'm getting there," he answered. "When I was 22, I was a gas station clerk. Colt had just gotten a degree in accounting, but no one wanted to hire a kid fresh out of school so he ended up at the gas station with me. Both of us were going nowhere. But a few months after he graduated, a guy he met in college called him up for a job. He brought me, too, and we moved some boxes from a warehouse to some guy's place. It was simple and easy and we made a good, quick buck. A few weeks later, he called us again and we did another job. And then we did another. It was like a snowball effect. Before long we were doing bigger, more dangerous jobs for more money. We worked our way up the ladder, and ended up heading the operation here in Chicago. The only people we reported to were the bosses in Mexico. Colt usually handles the money, and I handle the brawn."

She bit her lip. "And Dean, Seth, and Roman? How did they get caught up in all this?"

"They were sixteen when Colt and I found them," he said, looking down again. "We were doing a job and they were outside the warehouse getting drunk. They saw us moving some… merchandise. We thought they were going to run to the cops, but instead they begged us to take them on. It sounded like a great idea- they were underage and if they got caught, they wouldn't get in anywhere near as much trouble. We cleared it with the bosses, and they were our new lackeys. It's been that way ever since."

She took a deep, almost painful breath; hearing all of this was just too much to take in all at once. She wished she could just hide beneath the covers and forget about all of this… but she still had more questions that begged answers. "So you've been doing this for 12 years," she said slowly. "And you're making a lot of money, right?" He nodded. "Then how do you hide all of it? What do you put on your taxes? How on earth do you guys get away with all of this?"

"Actually, that's sort of the brilliant part of it," he said. "That's where Colt's genius comes in. He set up a fake business that we shuttle everything through. It started out as a comic book mail order business and 6 or 7 years ago we switched to purely online. There's a real website up and everything, but it's unlisted so no one ever finds it and makes an order. We've got a couple dozen boxes of comics in Colt's garage just in case anyone comes poking around, but no one ever does. Officially, he and I run the business and the guys are our employees."

"This… wow," she muttered, shaking her head. "I can't believe any of this. It's just too crazy to be true!"

"Believe it," he told her. He stood up, leaning against the wall next to the window. He peeked out through the curtains for a moment, gazing out at the skyline. Sometimes, staring out here gave him answers… but not tonight. "I know it all sounds insane, but there it is. AJ…" He turned back to face her, crossing the room and sitting down next to her on the bed. "I can't lose you. That's why I lied to you for so long. I was…" He swallowed hard; this was hard to admit. "I was afraid you would hate me for what I am. But baby, I just…" His voice started to break, in spite of himself. "I can't fucking lose you. You're the only good, real thing I have in my life. You're what keeps me from losing myself."

She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Punk…" she whispered, "I can't… I don't… know…" She faltered, unable to put her feelings into words. Her heart ached so terribly, her love for him clashing angrily against her disgust for his true profession.

Before she could say another word, he leaned forward and jammed his mouth against hers. Her immediate instinct was to pull back and put a stop to this, but his fierce kiss kept her locked against him. She groaned against his lips, framing his face between her hands.

He drew her down on the bed, slipping his tongue between her soft lips. She tasted of saltwater tears and sadness; it sent a sharp jolt down his spine, knowing he was responsible for those feelings. He was determined to melt them away, and show her what his love for her did to his body. He could already feel his boxers tightening painfully around him.

She shivered beneath his hard, muscled body as his hands reached the bottom of her shirt. She was absolute putty in his capable hands, and she knew it. All thoughts of running from him were banished, at least for now. All that mattered was being here with him in this moment, feeling his passion and his fury as he worked her shirt up over her head. He stripped off his as well, an animalistic growl rumbling from his throat as their bare torsos touched. Her skin was hot against his, burning with desire.

Her back arched off the bed so his hands could reach under her. He practically tore at her bra clasp, pulling the garment free of her chest. His eager hands fell upon her hardened peaks and she gasped, lightning shooting through her whole body. "Oh," she moaned, throwing her head back. When his mouth closed around the sensitive pink skin, she could only manage a strangled cry. Each flick of his tongue elicited another yelp, carrying her mind far, far away. She could feel heat and electricity pool between her legs, begging her thirst to be quenched.

But he couldn't be satisfied with just her upper body- he was hungry for all of it, just in case he never got to experience such bliss with her again. Growling into her neck, he reared his hips back to unfasten his belt and slide his jeans down. She gasped again as she felt him, throbbing for her pressed into her thigh. She quickly tugged the waistband of her shorts, and he helped them down the rest of the way. She was finally completely bare before him, beautiful and vulnerable. "I need you," he groaned, pushing his thigh between hers. He parted them easily, and thrust himself inside her.

"Punk!" she cried as their bodies joined. "Oh, Punk…" He was pumping inside her like a piston, in and out again and again. She couldn't think anymore. Her vision was hazy; her eyes could barely focus, resting lazily on his inked shoulder as it bobbed beneath her chin. As he moved effortlessly against her, she suddenly realized she needed this from him just as much as he needed her.

His hips were crashing wildly into hers. He'd lost track by now of how many times he'd felt her quiver around him, her body wracked with pleasure as she cried his name into his ear. That was what he wanted. He wanted her to be completely lost in him, for every nerve ending in her body to be on fire. His own veins were burning by the time he let himself go, spilling himself within her with a final cry.

* * *

"Was this a mistake?" she whispered. Her body was curled against his, one of his arms draped across her as he gently stroked her cheek.

"I don't want it to be," he whispered back. "I want you to stay. Please, baby. Stay."

He fell asleep not long after. She slipped out of his embrace as he slumbered, quietly dressing in the silent room. She cast a wistful glance at his sleeping form. She loved him; she knew that much. She loved him more than anything in the world. But tonight, she couldn't stay. With one last soft, gentle kiss to his forehead, she slipped her shoes on. She disappeared into the darkness of the night, much the way he'd done to her so many times before.


	11. Chapter 11

Pale, early morning light streamed through the curtains as Punk awoke. He yawned as he sat up, rubbing his eyes as the blanket fell from his chest. He had to chuckle to himself slightly; his shoulder was outlined with teeth marks, and his hips were sore. But then he frowned; the space next to him was unoccupied. "AJ?" he called as he stood up, finding his discarded boxer shorts and slipping them on. The bathroom was dark; she couldn't be in there. He entered the living room; it was empty but for Clark, who sat lazily atop the couch. The closet, formerly open and in disarray, was closed and secured.

She was gone. She'd locked up his dirty little secret before leaving, and now he was alone.

Again.

"Fuck," he groaned, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to the wall. "_Fuck_!" The sound of his fists slamming against the wall startled Clark, who darted off the couch and hid in the bedroom. "Great. Even my cat is scared of me." With a frustrated sigh he entered the kitchen, throwing open the door to his fridge. He pulled out a Pepsi, popping open the tab and leaning back to drink it. His eyes burned as they fell upon the opposite counter; his memory rushed back to that night nearly five months ago, when he'd lifted her beautiful body up there and first made her his. With another angry grumble, he crushed his now empty soda can and spiked it to the floor.

He knew he couldn't be angry with her, and he wasn't. No, the only person he was angry with was himself, and he was rightly furious. All of this was his fault. He stupidly thought he could somehow keep his two lives separate; he should have known since the very beginning that none of it would work. And now he'd just sent this innocent young woman's life into a spiraling ethical debate. He'd ruined her trust in people again, only a few short months after healing it.

But as he agonized over his foolish decisions, sure he would never see her again, a knock at the door startled him. Not even caring that he was barely dressed, he dragged himself over to answer it. Why would embarrassment matter? He sure wasn't going to be. Without looking through the peephole, he tugged the door open and stepped back.

"I'm sorry I ran out on you in the middle of the night," AJ said quietly as she entered the apartment, "but I wanted you to know what it feels like."

"You don't have to apologize," he replied, quickly closing the door behind her. His heart was racing; he never expected to see her again. "I deserve it." He looked down. "I deserve worse. I'm scum."

"Oh, Punk," she whispered, laying a gentle hand on his cheek. "I didn't really mean that. I said… a lot of things I shouldn't have. You do some bad things, but I know that's not who you really are."

"No, you're right," he corrected, shaking his head. "I _am _scum. I can't pretend to be this great guy for you, AJ, because I'm not. I love you more than anything and I don't want to lose you, but I can't have any delusions anymore about being your knight in shining armor."

"But you _are_!" she protested. "You stopped lying to me, so I'm not going to lie to you, either. I don't agree with or approve of what you and your friends do. I think it's horrible. But…" She bit her lip. She'd lain awake the entire night, running everything that happened through her head again and again. Could she really remain in a relationship with a criminal? And not just any criminal- he was part of a network too vast for to even try to imagine. But she just couldn't bear to lose him. She'd made her decision, and she had to make peace with it. "Unless you're all sociopaths and you're great at hiding your personalities, I think I've gotten to know you all well enough by now. You've got a good heart, Punk, and it's in the right place when it comes to me. I love you."

"So you'll stay?" he asked quietly.

"I have conditions," she added, backing up and folding her arms. "I may not like any of this, but if I want to be with you, I have to at least try to accept it. So you don't talk about it around me, unless it's to let me know where you're going. You don't try to drag me into it, you keep it out of my apartment, and… you stay safe. As safe as possible. I want you home in one piece. All of you."

"But you'll stay," he pressed, his ears pounding.

"I'll stay," she confirmed with a tiny nod.

He gathered her into his arms, pulling her tightly to him. Her chin tucked perfectly into his chest, as always. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" he whispered over the top of her head. Somehow, his life hadn't ended this fateful morning. Not yet.

* * *

The next time AJ met Punk's friends was just as tense at the beginning as she expected it to be. It was just a few short days after her initial confrontation with Punk, and every one of them knew what had gone on that night. She could only hope they wouldn't be wary of her, or treat Punk differently for her presence with her new awareness of what exactly this group did during their 'business' hours. So she prepared herself for coldness as she and Punk waited in the back booth of a local restaurant.

"So," Roman said casually as he slid in next to her, "you're still here."

"Whoa, harsh!" Seth noted as he sat down next. "Cool it, Roman."

"No, it's okay," AJ assured him as Dean and Colt joined them.

"I didn't mean it that way, anyway," Roman added, glancing at Punk for approval. "I'm just surprised you're still hanging with us, given when you learned about us a few days ago."

"You kidding?" Colt asked. "Like she would leave her favorite stud?"

"Oh, please," Dean muttered. "He's not a stud."

"I was talking about _me_," Colt corrected with a teasing wink.

Seth groaned. "You guys are ridiculous," he said, waving them off. But he was silent afterwards.

"All right, look," Punk said finally, speaking up for the first time. "You all don't have to posture like this, okay? She's not turning us in, and she doesn't think too differently of us."

"Can you really blame us for worrying?" Dean asked. "We've been afraid for our lives since Saturday, because you know damn well we'd be toast before we ever even got arrested. You _know _how much I hate feeling like a scared little bitch." The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

"No," AJ admitted. "But he's right. I'm not running to the police, and I don't like all of this, but I'll deal with it." She cast a small smile over her shoulder at Punk, and then around the table at each of the boys. "I don't think you're all monsters. I think you're just as stupid as I did a few days ago."

"_Well_," Colt said with a laugh, "_that's _a relief."

"Is it?" Roman asked. "She's _still _going to annoy us."

"I think that's a good thing," Seth teased. "It's the only female attention you ever get!"

AJ smiled as they bantered with one another, leaning her head against Punk's shoulder as she studied the menu. Warmth was returning to them, and they hadn't ostracized her as she'd expected. At first she thought that might happen purely out of their respect for Punk, but clearly she was wrong. If she treated them just the way she always did, they would do the same for her.

As she ate the sandwich she ordered, part of her had to wonder how she'd reached this point in her life. She was dating an arms dealer, and he and his best friends (her closest friends now, too; there was no way she could tell Kaitlyn what was really going on here) were in danger every day. How long could she really continue to go along with this, to look the other way as their actions killed more and more (whether these people were innocent or not)?

But she couldn't think about any of that. She just had to pray this semblance of normalcy would last.


	12. Chapter 12

"Ohhh," AJ groaned, burying her head against Punk's chest. "I'm _miserable_."

"You've been miserable for weeks," Punk pointed out, stroking her hair gently. "Don't you think you should… I don't know, go to a doctor or something?" He wasn't a fan of doctors himself, but seeing his girlfriend in so much distress was starting to change his mind. After having survived Punk's revelation for nearly two months now, the last thing he wanted was for her to be sick over something else.

"I don't want to," she mumbled. "Besides, it's not like it happens all the time. It comes and goes." She clutched her stomach, her tightened features slowly relaxing as the pain faded. "There, I'm feeling a little better now." She smiled up at him, as though this were proof.

"What kind of pain is it, anyway?" he asked curiously, drawing circles on her arm with the tip of his index finger. "Do you think you've become allergic to something you're eating, and it's given you pain?"

"Nah," she replied with a shake of her head. "It's mostly nausea. Sometimes I throw up if I can't keep it down, but usually it passes after maybe half an hour or so."

His hand came to a screeching halt on her arm, the hammer tipping slowly in the back of his mind. "Nausea?" he repeated, his voice but a squeak. "You don't think…" No. It couldn't be.

She blinked up at him in confusion. "Don't think what?" she asked with a frown. But it didn't take long for the realization to hit her, too. "Oh my God…" She untangled herself from his embrace and jumped off the couch, rushing back to her bedroom and slamming the door.

"Aw, AJ," he groaned, standing up and rushing to follow her. He tested the doorknob, but it was locked. "Come on, baby, open the door. Please?"

"No!" she snapped, her voice muffled by both her sobs and the barrier between them. "Go away! You got me pregnant, you son of a bitch!"

Just hearing the word sent a jolt down his spine, but he had to keep it together for her sake. "We don't know that," he reminded her. "We don't know anything yet." But her rapid mood swing only served as further proof of what they both feared. His fist was shaking slightly as he knocked on the door again. "Come on. Open the door so we can talk about this."

She didn't answer. She left him helpless beyond her bedroom door, alone with his own mess of terrible thoughts. This couldn't be happening! They both had just gotten over the biggest hurdle they'd ever faced in their lives; how could another one (arguably even more life-changing) pop up so quickly? Hadn't he been careful? This just _couldn't _happen. No, clearly she was just stressed. This pain would go away soon, and they would both have a good laugh with the boys about the misunderstanding.

But about ten minutes later, the door flew open. Punk stumbled back against it before righting himself, turning around to face her. "AJ?" he asked gently, his heart sinking at the sight of the tears forming in her eyes. She only looked at him for a moment before running back to the bathroom. He followed her, his progress slow, as though he were trying to prolong the inevitable moment that was to follow.

The first thing he saw in the bathroom was the ripped up box on the floor, with a small directional sheet lying next to it. He raised his head to AJ, who sat on the edge of the bathtub, head in her hands. "April?" he said quietly, and she could only wave one of her hands toward the bathroom counter in response. He leaned over to observe the small white stick, and the world slipped out from under him.

Two blue lines.

"How did this happen?" AJ shrieked at him. "Did it break one night, and you didn't tell me?"

"No!" he cried, stepping back and shock at accusation. "Of course not! I'm _always _careful. It _never _broke. We-" He paused, the horrible realization dawning upon him in an instant. "Fuck… that night…" The memory came rushing back to him suddenly, of the night he confessed to AJ. Everything happened so suddenly, and the moment, they'd both forgotten… "God damn it, I can't believe this is happening…"

"Get out," she growled at him suddenly, looking up with bloodshot eyes.

"I… what?" Punk asked, shaking his head. "AJ, no, we have to talk about this. We-"

"I said _out_! Get out, _now_!" She stood up and grabbed him by the shoulders, shoving him roughly. He stumbled back into the doorframe. "Go! Just go!"

* * *

"Oh, Kait," AJ sobbed. "I just can't believe this. What the hell am I supposed to do now?"

"You need to calm down, and go talk to him," Kaitlyn advised gently. While she'd initially been alarmed by her poor friend's news, she quickly contained herself. She knew AJ needed her support and guidance right now more than anything else. She only wished she could be there in person.

"I can't talk to him!" AJ cried. "I just kicked him out of my apartment because I was so scared! And he… and he…" She trailed off into sobs. It was the one thing she could never tell Kaitlyn- the truth about her boyfriend's life. It was such a vital part of her predicament, and she wanted so badly to just tell her everything, but she'd sworn not to. No, that part she would have to deal with on her own.

"April, he loves you!" Kaitlyn reminded her. "From what you told me, it sounds like he didn't have any intention of running out on you. He wanted to talk, didn't he? Well, take him up on the offer, because you can't do it alone. I'll fly out there as soon as I can get some time off work, but I can't be the only one you lean on. He's the father of your baby, AJ. You need him."

"Oh my God, _baby_?" AJ choked out. "I can't do this… I'm going to be sick again…"

"You _can_," Kaitlyn insisted. "Now quit being such a crybaby and call his ass already! I can't threaten to smack you anymore for being stupid, because you're pregnant."

This actually got a chuckle out of her. "Thanks, Kaitlyn," she whispered. "I think I'm going to go lie down for a little while and clear my head. I'll talk to you later."

She meant to pick up the phone to call Punk just a few minutes later, but she ended up lying in bed for hours. She spent the entire time with her hand splayed out on her stomach, tapping it gently. She knew it was too early to feel anything move, but now that she was actually paying attention to her stomach, it _did _look just a little bit bigger. Trying to imagine the tiny thing that was growing inside her was almost too terrifying to think about. But it was real, and it was hers… and Punk's.

Oh, Punk. How could she possibly have a child with him? She didn't doubt his ability to be a parent; that wasn't what bothered her. What worried her most was bringing a baby into his dark, twisted world. No one had come after him yet, but how much longer could he continue to press his luck? It would happen sooner or later; she was sure of it. And she and this baby weren't going to be around when it did.

* * *

How many hours had Punk been pacing, now? He'd lost count. The time didn't matter. All that mattered was that his girlfriend was pregnant, and she was refusing to talk to him. What was going to happen now? Was she going to run? Would he ever see her again, or his baby, if she even had it? There were too many possibilities to think about, and each one of them was torturing him relentlessly.

_Pregnant. _AJ was _pregnant_. It was _his _baby that was forming inside her- _his _responsibility. How could he have let this happen? Did she even _want _to be a mother? And how could he possibly manage to raise a child who wasn't a screw up like him? It was impossible, surely. No, the only result of anything continuing his genetic line would be more failures, disappointments, and pain.

"No, no, _no_," he groaned, kicking a nearby discarded water bottle. "This can't fucking happen…" He looked down at Clark, who came up to rub his head innocently against Punk's leg. Why couldn't his life be as simple as this cat's? There were no decisions to be made for him.

But he couldn't just sit here any longer. He _had _to talk to AJ, even if she was too horrified by their situation to see him. He snatched his keys off the kitchen counter and headed to the door, only to step back in shock when he opened it. "AJ?" he asked in disbelief.

"We need to talk," she told him.

* * *

**Author's note: Dun dun duuuuuun! I was actually pretty hesitant about doing this, but it was suggested in a couple of reviews and Red Foxy helped convince me to go on with it. I hope this idea is well-recieved and everyone enjoyed this chapter!**


	13. Chapter 13

"I'm sorry about earlier," AJ said quietly. "I think I overreacted a little."

Punk laughed harshly, in spite of himself. "You think?" he asked, and she blushed. "It's okay. Come on. Come sit down." He led her gently by the arm to the couch; this time, it was her turn to chuckle.

"Punk, I'm pregnant," she reminded him. "Not disabled. I can walk."

"Right," he muttered as he sat down next to her. "Sorry. I've… never done this before."

"Neither have I." She looked down at her stomach for a moment, sighing. "I was really scared when we found out… I'm still scared. I don't know what to do."

"I completely at a loss here," he agreed. "But what do you _want _to do?"

She took a deep breath. "I've always wanted to be a mom," she admitted, "ever since I was a little girl. I love kids. My mother never indulged the nerdy hobbies I got into, and I dreamed of being able to give my kid the freedom to be themselves. When I broke up with Daniel, I was devastated- not just because of what he did, but because I thought I'd never find anyone else I loved enough to have a family with, until I found you. I want to have this baby with you, if that's what you want, too. But…" She hesitated.

"But?" he prompted nervously. He was sure this was the part where she would tell him his life and his past was too sick and twisted for her. This was where she would run away from him, leaving him alone with whispers of what his life could have been.

"I'm not bringing a child into your world," she said flatly.

There it was. Her words were sharper than any sword, straight through his heart. "So you're… you're leaving me, then," he managed to choke out. He wondered suddenly if she would let him know how their child would grow, if she decided to keep it.

"No, that's not it at all," she assured him quickly. "What I mean is…" She paused again, this time to blink back tears. "What you do terrifies me, Punk. Every time you leave for 'work', I'm always scared I'll never see you again. I worry for you and the others every single day. How can I do that with a baby at home? And what if your enemies come after us? We'll never be safe!"

"AJ, it's not like that," he tried to explain. "We're always careful. There hasn't been a screw up in years, and the ones that have happened have never been our fault."

"It doesn't matter if it's your fault or not," she pointed out. "You can't control what other people do! How can you be sure they'll never follow you home? How many close calls have you had? How many times have you been double-crossed? How many times have one of you been shot? Tell me!"

Punk could recall a perfect example.

* * *

_**December 2007**_

"_Just got off the phone with Alberto," Punk reported as he entered the living room with Colt, surveying the three young men before him. "Everything's set. Let's get going."_

"_Are you sure?" Seth asked nervously as he stood. He and the others were barely 22 years old; while they'd been doing this since they were 16, this would be their biggest job yet. All of them had been increasingly on edge as the week went on._

"_It'll be fine," Punk assured him. "Just think of it like any other job. Just… on a little bit bigger of a scale." He loaded his gun and slipped it in the holster before zipping his jacket up over his bulletproof vest. "Now let's get moving, all right?" He nodded one last time to Colt as they headed out the door._

_Dean hopped in the driver's seat of the van, joined by Punk in the passenger seat; Seth and Roman clambered into the back with the shipment. The real goods were surrounded by boxes containing innocuous items, just in case they were stopped- this time, it was floor tiles. But they had never been stopped before, and they wouldn't be stopped tonight. Punk and his crew were too good at this._

_The drive to the drop-off point was mostly silent. Punk tried to break the tension in the air with a few well-timed jokes, but nothing could break the boys' solemn demeanor. He didn't blame them- he remembered how nervous (borderline terrified) he and Colt had been on their first big job, all those years ago. But he had faith in his gang of misfits, just as Alberto had faith in Punk and Colt._

_The old warehouse was dark when they did their first drive-by. They never pulled up right away- Punk always preferred to check their surroundings before they threw themselves into the mix. But the surrounding blocks were clear, too. So Dean parked in front, and Punk hopped out of the passenger seat. He knocked twice on the corrugated metal door, and whistled. The door slid open, and eight different men were waiting to greet him. The man at the front was one Punk recognized, and hated dealing with. He just didn't trust him._

"_Punk," the man acknowledged with a nod._

"_Get this shit out of my van, Randy," Punk replied coolly, jerking his thumb toward the waiting vehicle. Dean, Seth, and Roman jumped out, standing in front of the van's back doors and waiting patiently for their signal. Randy snapped his fingers, and his men began to converge on the van._

"_Hey, now, not so fast," Punk warned them, holding up his hand. "Where's the payment?"_

_Randy smirked at him. "Silly me," he said. He reached into his jacket and drew forth a thick envelope. "Catch!" He tossed it into Punk's outstretched hands, and waved for his men again._

"_Hold your fucking horses," Punk snapped, opening the envelope. He flicked through the cash, shaking his head. "This is wrong, Randy. You've only got $25,000 here. The agreed price was 50."_

"_Do you ever speak to your boss?" Randy asked. "It's 25. We spoke this morning."_

"_We spoke 20 minutes ago, and last I heard it was 50," Punk growled. "We're not doing this tonight, friend. Either pony up the other 25 or you can forget it."_

"_I'm not leaving here without my shipment," Randy hissed. _

"_And I'm not leaving without my $50,000!" Punk snapped. "This isn't a joke, Randy. Give me my money, or we're going to have real problems, real fast."_

"_Oh, you want a problem?" Randy shouted, brandishing his gun._

_Instantly, Punk drew his weapon as well. He was quickly followed by everyone else in the room. He knew Dean, Seth, and Roman were steadfastly backing him up behind him, but they were vastly outnumbered. They had nine people to contend with. "Let's not make this difficult, Randy," Punk advised. "I don't want bloodshed. I just want my money."_

"_You've got your money," Randy replied. "Now give me my goddamn guns. Now!"_

"_Unless you plan on paying me the full amount, they're staying with me," Punk shot back._

"_You son of a bitch!"_

_A hail of bullets started flying. Punk dropped to the floor as he returned fire, quickly rolling out of the way behind a crate. "Go!" he shouted to the boys behind him, raising his gun over the crate to fire back. Dean scrambled out of the warehouse and dove into the driver's seat, wheels screeching as he pulled the van around to the side. Punk heard a yelp from behind him- Seth had been struck in the arm. He crawled backwards to the door, trying desperately to reach his fallen friend. Roman got there at the same time, and together they hauled Seth around the corner of the door. _

_Dean pulled up behind them, swinging the door open. "Get a move on!" he yelled. Punk and Roman dragged Seth into the van. As soon as they were inside, Dean floored it and sped out of there._

* * *

"That's exactly what I'm talking about," AJ said shakily as Punk finished his story. The color had drained from his face as he recounted the tale; she didn't blame him. They had very nearly lost Seth that night. "Things like that… they can't happen when you have a family. I can't raise a baby knowing you might not come home or we might be in danger."

"You said you aren't leaving, and that you want to have this baby," Punk said slowly. "So then, what _are _you saying?" If he was nervous before, his stomach was doing somersaults now.

"I'm saying I want you to quit," she replied. "I want you to hang up this life- all of you."

"What?" he cried, leaping off the couch. "_Quit_? You want me, _and _Colt, _and _Seth, _and _Dean, _and _Roman to just… up and leave the only way of life we've ever known because you're pregnant? Are you insane?" The vein in his forehead didn't pop out often, but he could feel it pulsing now. His entire being was threatening to explode.

"_You're _insane!" she shot back. "The five of you are crazy if you think your 'way of life' is going to last! It's a miracle that none of you are dead yet. How long do you think you can keep pressing your luck, Phil? Even if I wasn't pregnant, I would _still _be asking you to do this, because this isn't right for you."

"Not right for me?" he snapped. "I've been doing this for 12 fucking years, April, and I'm pretty damn good at it, in case you haven't noticed."

"Oh, I don't doubt your skill," she spat. "But that's not what I mean. I mean it isn't _right_. Remember how you told me you and Colt met Dean, Seth, and Roman because they saw you doing a job? Well, what if they hadn't wanted to join you? You would have had to kill them, wouldn't you?"

Punk was silent; he knew it was true. They both did.

"But I _know _you," she continued tearfully. "I know _all _of you. You can't kill innocent people, baby. Somehow, you're still good men. But someday, you might not be. You haven't lost yourselves yet, but you will. You need to get out while you still have your humanity." She looked down at her stomach, where her hand rested gently. "While you still have us."


	14. Chapter 14

_**June 2009**_

"_Do you ever think we'll get out?" Colt asked._

_Punk frowned, glancing over at him. "What do you mean?"_

"_You know what I mean," Colt intoned. He gestured casually to the coffee table before them; it was covered with guns, boxes of ammo, and stacks of cash. "All of this. You think we'll ever… I don't know, become upstanding citizens someday?"_

_Punk laughed harshly, moving a few papers aside to prop his legs up on the table. "Doubt it," he replied. "I think we're too far gone for that." He sighed as he glanced at the other occupants of the living room- they were all dozing. Dean was lying back in the easy chair, Seth was on the floor leaning against it, and Roman was stretched out on the other couch._

"_You know," Colt mused, "sometimes I envy them."_

"_How so?" Punk asked, curiously studying his friends' sleeping features._

"_Well, think about it," Colt urged. "After a job, they all go and get completely drunk off their asses. They have a good time and forget about what happened. I don't have the luxury of doing that, because I have to deal with all the money transfer bullshit, and you, well… you're too much of a righteous asshole. You and I, we have to remember every bad thing we've ever done. But not them. They just… forget."_

"_They're young," Punk reminded him. "It'll catch up to them."_

_Colt blinked. "You say that like it's a good thing."_

"_It's not," Punk assured him, watching as Dean grumbled in his sleep and shifted his body. "It's not."_

* * *

"She- wait, _what_?" Dean cried, throwing his arms up. "No, you've got to be fucking kidding me, Punk. So you're telling me that because _you _knocked her up, the rest have to up and quit the business, too? Jesus Christ. I didn't even get to fuck her, and I'm still getting fucked in all this."

"Hey, hey, watch it," Roman warned him, sitting up straight; he was always the more calm, level-headed member of their group. "I don't like this, either. But that's his girl you're talking about."

"And his kid," Seth added.

"I don't care!" Dean snapped wildly. He turned angrily to Punk, his finger shaking as he pointed at him. "The two of you having a kid is _not _my fucking problem, all right? I'm not turning my entire goddamn life upside down so you can play Daddy."

"You think I like this either?" Punk shot back. "I can't support a woman and a baby clerking at a fucking gas station. What the fuck would I do otherwise?"

"Does that part even matter?" Seth challenged. "She's right, man. We can't keep doing this forever. I know you don't believe in luck, Punk, but even you have to admit we've been pretty damn lucky so far. It's a goddamn miracle we haven't gotten caught or killed yet. We can't keep going like this forever."

"You all might be burned out already, but I'm not," Dean growled. "I'm not going back to making pennies an hour at McDonald's."

"It doesn't matter if you're not burned out," Roman piped up. "What matters is that we're all vital parts of this operation at this point. One of us can't just 'quit'. It has to be all of us, or none of us."

"How can we just up and quit?" Punk argued, even though he knew Roman was right. "This is all any of us has ever known. And how do we even know we can just walk away clean? What if-"

Colt cut him off abruptly. "That's all true," he agreed, "but have we ever had a _reason _to quit?"

The room, once rife with noise and tension, fell silent. They each exchanged glances, looking nervously from one to the other as they considered Colt's statement.

"Think about it," Colt urged. "We've never had a reason. My parents are dead. The rest of you haven't talked to yours in over a decade. None of us have had serious girlfriends in a really long time. We've never been caught, we've never gone through a double-cross we haven't gotten ourselves out of, and we make good money. We've been coasting, this whole time. This never happens to people in our profession. They've either lost their souls or are dead by now. We've never had a reason to face reality."

He was right. Punk hated to admit it, but he knew Colt was right. His head was spinning; too many changes were happening in his life at once. In only a day and a half, he'd found out that he was going to be a father, and he may very well be leaving the only way of life that made sense to him.

"So what are we gonna do, then?" Roman asked flatly.

"I think we should do it," Seth replied firmly. "We're not going to be able to do this forever. This could be our chance to stop. I don't want to die before I'm 30 because of a bad deal. I want to live."

"Roman?" Colt prompted.

"I'm in agreement with him," Roman replied. "Who the hell knows? I might be good at something else."

"I'm all in," Colt agreed.

"This is fucking bullshit," Dean growled. "Not even my goddamn kid and I'm paying the price for it. Well, I guess I don't have much of a fucking choice, do I? Some chick thinks she can dictate my life…" His protests trailed off into silence, and he kicked at the leg of the coffee table.

Colt winced, but at least Dean was agreeing. "Well, fearless leader?" he asked, turning to Punk. "It's your show now, buddy. Are we hanging up the bad boy life for the benefit of your spawn?"

* * *

Part of AJ felt terrible for asking Punk and his friends to give up everything.

A voice in the back of her mind whispered evil doubts to her. How dare she ask four other men, in addition to her boyfriend, change their lives completely just because she was pregnant! It wasn't her place to dictate their futures! _They're all going to think you're just a meddling bitch, _she thought. _They're going to hate you, and by extension the baby, for coming along and screwing up everything they worked for. Just get rid of it and take off now before you destroy anything else!_

But the more she thought about it, the more certain she was that she was right. This wasn't just about her, or the baby- when it came down to it, she thought, it actually had very little to do with either of them. No, her pregnancy was merely a catalyst. A wake-up call. It was a slap in the face for all them, a chance for them to realize that they could have lives beyond the criminal empire they'd been stuck in for so many years. She could only hope they wouldn't hold it against her.

She was lying back on her bed now, having just brushed her teeth after vomiting most of her snack from earlier. She didn't know a whole lot about pregnancy, but she had enough knowledge to expect more of this sickness for at least another month. Thinking about it made her wonder how long it would be before she really started to show. With how healthy her diet was, and the fact that she was quite small to begin with, she imagined she probably wouldn't turn into a balloon. She hoped.

"Hey," came Punk's call from the door as he entered the apartment. Nacho sprang off the bed to greet him, leading him back into the bedroom proudly.

She smiled weakly at him, struggling to sit up. "Hey," she said.

He sat on the edge of the bed, taking off his hat. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Same as when you left," she answered. "Can't keep anything down." She shifted against the pillows. "So… how did everything go? Do they hate me?" Her voice dropped suddenly. "Do you?"

"No, no, of course not," he assured her. "They… had a hard time accepting it, but they're going to do it." He reached over to squeeze her hand. "I just don't know what we're going to do now. I've never been to college, and my legal career skills end at restocking beer and Gatorade at the gas station."

"Well," she said slowly, thinking for a moment, "what about the comic business? You can turn it legitimate. There's a much bigger market for that stuff now, since the big superhero movies came out."

"Maybe," he agreed with a sigh. "I'm not sure. I would have to talk to Colt about it. But I have enough stashed away to keep us afloat until we figure it out."

"I work, too," she reminded him.

"For now," he pointed out. "You can't be around a bunch of crazy animals with a big belly." He poked her stomach teasingly, and then gently ran his fingertips beneath her shirt. Her skin was smooth, soft, and fairly flat- for now. He imagined her stomach growing larger; he imagined feeling a firm kick against his hand as his baby grew. There were so many possibilities ahead of them.

"So what to do we do now?" she asked quietly, placing a hand over hers. There was so much to do. She had to find a doctor, for one. And a two-bedroom apartment, or even a house- both of their places had only one bedroom. They didn't have space yet for a baby. They would have to buy a crib, a stroller, a car seat, clothes… And would it be a boy, or a girl? They wouldn't even know for a few more months.

"Well, the easy part's over," he admitted.

"Easy?" she chuckled. "If getting the guys to agree to quit was easy, then what's the hard part?"

"Calling Alberto," he answered. "He's not going to like this."


	15. Chapter 15

"Fuck," Dean grumbled. "We didn't even _think _about this." He turned around, starting his next lap as he continued to pace Colt's living room. It had been three days since they made their collective (albeit reluctant) decision to quit their business at AJ's urging, and since then they each had been agonizing over the impending call to their boss. How would Alberto react? None of them had any idea. The only members of their group who had any regular contact with the head honcho in Mexico were Punk and Colt, and even they were at a loss.

"Just do it," Roman advised from where he sat, framing his forehead nervously with his hands.

"No!" Seth shouted nervously. "We need to figure out what we're going to say."

"Oh, please," Dean shot back. "We sound like teenagers trying to call a girl for the first time."

Roman laughed harshly. "That shit was easier than this," he said.

"Shut up, all of you," Colt snapped finally. "This is stupid." He sighed. "Punk should do it."

"What?" Punk cried, standing up from the couch. "Why me?"

"Well, first of all, it was your idea," Colt reminded him. "Or at least, it's your fault. And second… he likes you the best out of all of us. You're like his golden boy."

"That's what I'm worried of," Punk muttered back with a sigh. He feared that he and everything his group was able to provide for Alberto's business was so important to him, the powerful drug lord wouldn't want to let them go. With a deep breath, he removed his protected phone from his pocket. Burned phones like this were the only ones they were permitted to call the boss with.

"Well, go on," Seth said urgently, waving his hand vaguely in Punk's direction. "Do it already!"

"I will," Punk snapped. "Give me time. Unless you'd rather make the call?" He held the phone in Seth's direction, but his younger friend merely looked away, falling silent. Punk turned his attention back to the phone, his index finger shaking slightly as he punched in the number. Was it correct? He wasn't sure- it changed monthly. But no, this had to be it. It was the element of this call he was confident about; he'd never been this afraid of his boss before. He wasn't sure he'd ever been this afraid, period.

The phone was ringing. Holy fuck, it was ringing… maybe he wouldn't answer… maybe Punk would be able to put this off for a little while, call back later, and-

"Punk!" Alberto's deep, gravelly voice greeted him jovially. "I was going to call you this evening, mi hermano. We have new prospects on the horizon. To what do I owe this early call?"

_Mi hermano. _My brother. Damn, this wasn't going to be easy. "Listen, boss, we need to talk," Punk replied evenly. "I… I mean, all of us, Colt, Dean, Seth, Roman… We're thinking of stepping back."

"Stepping back?" Alberto asked, his confusion evident in his voice. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…" Punk sighed, standing up to pace the room as Dean had only moments earlier. "We're just thinking of maybe… retiring from this business."

"Retiring!" Alberto chuckled. "What's this talk of retiring, my boy? You know how much I need you. And down here, we've been thinking of moving you up to another distribution level… Come on. Is the money not good anymore?" He laughed again. "If you boys wanted a raise, all you had to do was ask. You know me, Punk. I'm always open to negotiation."

Punk bit his lip; this wasn't going to go well. He could tell already. "This isn't about the money, Alberto. The money's great. We're…" He paused, searching his mind desperately for the right words. "We're getting older. I'm 34 years old. I can't be dodging bullets and sliding underneath warehouse doors forever. And…" He thought suddenly of AJ, the whole reason he was doing this, and the tiny thing they made together that was growing inside her. "I don't want to die doing this, Alberto. My crew and I have enjoyed our… partnership with you, but we all agree it's time to move on."

There was silence for a moment. "And you're sure that's what you want?" Alberto asked finally.

The coldness in his boss's voice scared Punk a little, but he had to remain firm. "Positive," he answered.

"Let me call you back."

In the half an hour that followed, no one spoke a single word. Dean continued pacing the room while Colt, Seth, and Roman sat perfectly still on the couch. Punk sat across from them in the chair, head in his hands. The tension in the air was evident; all five of these near-fearless men were brought to stone silence by the voice of one man.

But he wasn't just a man, and that was what scared them. He had an empire behind him.

When the phone finally rang again, everyone jumped. Dean bumped into the coffee table, banging his shin and swearing loudly. Punk waved him angrily into silence before answering, hand shaking as he brought the phone to his ear. "Hello?" he asked.

"Punk," Alberto replied. He sounded calm… collected. "I've talked it over with my people, and I understand where you're coming from. I think we can work something out."

Relief flooded him like a hot shower after a long day's work. "Really?" he asked, almost in disbelief.

"Yes," Alberto answered. "It's going to take some work, as you're at the height of the distribution chain… But if it's what you want, my friend, then I will deliver. All I ask is that you do one last job for me. It will pay well, I promise. Think of it as… a retirement bonus."

Punk would've agreed to be shot out of a cannon at that point. "One last job," he echoed, looking to the rest of the boys; they nodded quickly in agreement. "Of course. No problem."

"Good. I'll call you in the next few weeks with the details." He hung up.

"Well," Punk said as he pocketed his phone, looking around the room as a collective sigh was uttered by all. "That was actually easy. Really easy."

"Almost too easy," Colt observed, leaning forward. "You don't think…"

"That he's planning something?" Dean finished. "Of course we think that. There's no way this is going down that fucking easy. It just doesn't happen like that."

"You sure?" Seth asked. "He's never fucked us over before. He has no reason to."

"We've always been straight with him," Roman pointed out.

"Of course he has a reason to!" Dean snapped. "He's a goddamn drug lord!"

"Calm down," Punk told them all easily. "Me and Colt go way back with him. We've known Alberto since his dad ran the business. We were just kids back then, but he was born into this role. We weren't. He understands." He smiled confidently. "Everything's going to be fine, okay?"

* * *

"_Punk_," AJ giggled, pawing at him, "stop!"

"What?" Punk muttered against the skin of her neck. He kissed a slow line up to her ear, undeterred by her attempts to thwart his advances. "I can't help it. I'm happy. For the first time in 12 fucking years, I'm finally free. I can make plans a few weeks in advance, now. Years, even. So many possibilities!"

"Does that mean you like this idea?" she asked, her hand drifting to her stomach. "Of all of us?"

Still giddy with excitement, he hiked her shirt up to get access to her belly. "Of course," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her stomach. She shivered, goose bumps forming everywhere his lips traveled. "I was scared before, and I'm still scared. The fact that you think I'm going to make a good father is terrifying and humbling. But… I think I'm excited to have a little mini-me running around."

She laughed. "Who says she's going to look like you?" she teased.

"She?" he echoed. "I hate to break it to you, baby, but it's going to be a boy."

"We'll find out in a few months," she said with a smile.

But while the happy couple bonded, things were already in motion. In a mansion thousands of miles away, Alberto del Rio was busy making plans. He didn't like the idea of Punk's retirement, and had simply decided that things weren't going to happen the way Punk wanted to… because no one quit the del Rio family. Ever.


	16. Chapter 16

AJ almost wasn't prepared for the amount of changes that took place in her life following Punk's call to his (now former) boss. The day after he and the boys quit, the expecting couple went hunting for a new place to live. The process wasn't as difficult as either of them originally thought it would be; both of them agreed they wanted to relocate somewhere in the outlying suburbs of Chicago, and only a few days into their search, they settled on a foreclosed three-bedroom house a few blocks from Colt's.

"I'm so glad you're not as picky as most women," he told her happily after they'd paid for the house- in cash. "I was afraid the baby would be born before we found a place to live." He smiled teasingly.

"Well, I'm not like most women," she teased back. While this was certainly true, it went deeper than that- after the whirlwind of changes he was going through at her insistence, she wasn't about to make it even more difficult for him than it already was.

Next came moving. Despite her promises that she was fine, Punk refused to let his pregnant girlfriend to lift a single thing. So she was relegated to packing, while he enlisted the help of Colt, Dean, Seth, and Roman to lift boxes. Even with Dean grumbling and cursing the whole way (he was hopelessly bored and restless without a job), they managed to get everything done in a few short hours. It was only after clearing the apartments that both Punk and AJ realized how little they really owned. Even though the house wasn't big, it felt as though their belongings combined disappeared into their new house.

"It'll look more like a home once we get everything for the baby," she assured him that night as they got into bed- her bed. His was in what they'd designated as a guest room. The third room remained completely empty, waiting to be occupied by the baby who was only 2 months and change along.

"Yeah, you and your friend Kaitlyn can handle that," he told her with a laugh. "I don't do shopping." He turned onto his side to face her. "When does she get here, anyway?"

"Next week," she replied. "The day after our doctor's appointment."

He raised his eyebrows. "Doctor's appointment?" he echoed nervously. Nothing could strike fear into him like the expectation of being a father soon.

"Yes, you idiot!" she said, chuckling. "Did you think we were just going to wing this whole thing? No, I made a doctor's appointment. We get to see our baby for the first time next week."

At this prospect, his eyes brightened a little. "Do we get to find out if it's a boy or a girl?" he asked.

She smiled at him, both amused and heartened by his excitement. "Not for a few more months," she informed him sadly. "But it won't be long."

He smiled back at her, lying back as he imagined what his child would look like. Was he scared? Absolutely. Terrified, even. But the thought of creating a family with AJ-a real family-was enough to quiet the butterflies circling around in his stomach. For now.

* * *

AJ awoke a little later than usual the next morning, but she chalked it up to lazy Sundays and being pregnant. The first thing she heard as she opened her eyes was the noise of construction. Both Clark and Nacho were curled up at her feet, apparently happy to be living together. Yawning and stretching as she sat up, she frowned as she detected the source of the noise- the hall closet. She slipped out of bed and padded out of the bedroom, discovering three things in the hallway- her boyfriend, Colt, and an assortment of power tools. "Um… good morning?" she said slowly.

Punk and Colt instantly turned around, the sound of the cordless drill instantly halting. "Uh, hi!" Punk replied with cheerful nervousness, putting his drill down. "Good morning."

"What the hell are you guys doing?" she asked, surveying the shelving units and sheet of drywall that were propped up along the wall.

"I'm gonna… go get more coffee," Colt muttered, quickly running off to the kitchen.

Punk sighed. "I was going to tell you when it was finished," he promised. "It's a weapons cache."

"What?" she cried. "Like the one in your old apartment? Why? I thought you were quitting!" Her eyebrows immediately narrowed, her tone having risen to an accusatory one. Surely he wasn't thinking of lying to her again, after everything they'd gone through…

"I am, I am, I promise!" he assured her quickly, rising to his feet from where he'd been crouching on the floor. "I just… I can't just get rid of my guns, AJ. So I had to find a safe way to store them, the way I used to." He looked down at his plaster covered shoes, sighing. How would he explain himself? "After years of doing what I do… did, you get really paranoid. What if something happens? I have to be prepared." He shuffled his feet. "I know it sounds really stupid, but I promise I was going to tell you. I just had to do it."

AJ hesitated, biting her lip. She didn't like this idea; that much was clear. Why did he really _need _so many guns around? But again, she remembered how much he was giving up for her. He was turning his entire life around for her and their baby… Couldn't she make this allowance for him, if it made him feel more secure? "All right," she said finally, leaning back against the wall. "If it makes you feel better, I don't mind." Then she frowned again. "But you have to clean up this mess!"

He laughed, pulling her forward to kiss her. "Deal," he said.

* * *

Punk spent the several days growing more and more nervous. The closer they came to their first doctor's appointment, the more anxious he became. At heart, he knew he was being foolish- the baby wouldn't be here for another six months, at least. AJ was perfectly healthy, and had assured him many times that the tests that were going to be performed were merely routine this early in her pregnancy, to rule out any possible complications or deformities.

"Everything's gonna be fine," she assured him when he picked her up from work midday to take her to the appointment. "Stop worrying so much!"

But he couldn't stop himself from running terrible possibilities through his head, and not just about the baby's health- about his own abilities as a father. He'd managed to keep a cat alive and healthy so far, but he wasn't stupid enough to believe pet care skills could be easily translated to parenthood. What would he do when it cried at night? If it bumped its head? How was he supposed make a bottle? Would the kid even love him? What if he screwed everything up?

"Punk," AJ said as they sat in the waiting room, "what are you _doing_?"

"Reading a magazine," he muttered back. "Why?"

"It's upside down," she told him frankly.

"What?" He squinted, trying to focus on the words in front of him… they were, in fact, upside down. With a frustrated sigh, he cast the magazine on the table beside him. "Fuck it. I give up."

"Oh, baby, everything's going to be fine," she assured him, squeezing his leg lightly. When she smiled at him, it was like a warm spring morning. Maybe everything would be okay after all.

"Mendez?" a nurse called from the door.

She stood up, extending a hand for him to do the same. "Let's go," she said confidently.

The exam room was small, cramped, and way too white. Punk already felt trapped, easing uncomfortably into a chair as AJ lowered herself onto the exam table. Would their doctor judge him for his multitude of tattoos, or because of their age difference, or because they weren't married? Why the hell did he even care about any of that? He _never _cared about being judged before! These nerves were really getting to him… he just had to calm down, hold AJ's hand, and get a hold of himself.

As the appointment progressed, Punk found that focusing on the way AJ's eyes lit up helped ease his nerves. It was then he realized how truly happy this pregnancy made her- having his baby delighted her. With each bit of good news about the results of her blood tests the obstetrician delivered, she squeezed his hand in excitement. She truly loved him, and this baby, already.

Punk had to admit to himself his own excitement when it came time for the ultrasound. He watched as she lifted her shirt, squirming slightly as the doctor applied the gel. She pressed the wand to AJ's belly, smiling at them both as she froze an image on the monitor. "There's your baby," she announced.

"Wow," Punk whispered, staring at the screen, mouth slightly agape. He was mystified, studying the black and white, grainy picture before him. It was small, and to the untrained eye, looked like nothing more than a misshapen blob. But he knew. It was his, and AJ's. He glanced at her, his smile broadening as he observed the silent tears of joy rolling down her cheeks.

"Is that ours?" she whispered to him, grasping his hand.

"That's ours," he whispered back.


	17. Chapter 17

"_Alberto, you know I don't handle the product," Punk reminded him flatly. "That was never my job."_

"_Si, si, I know, my friend," Alberto assured him. "But you agreed to one last job, no? This is a really big shipment, Punk. I need my best men on the job to make sure everything goes smoothly. I can't afford for this operation to be anything but perfect. And when I need perfect… I go straight to you."_

_Punk sighed. He wasn't happy; the thought of aiding in the transport and distribution of Alberto's merchandise absolutely disgusted him, and working for a drug lord for so many years was bad enough. But if this was the last time he'd ever be involved in criminal exploits, and he would finally be able to be free afterward… perhaps he could stomach it just this once. "All right," he said finally. "We'll do it."_

"_Good," Alberto replied; Punk could hear the smile in his voice. "Tomorrow night."_

* * *

"Where does this one go?" Kaitlyn asked. She had a bolt in one hand, and a screwdriver in the other.

"Uh…" AJ frowned for a moment, glancing at the directions. "Here. At the bottom of this leg."

"Oh! I knew that." Kaitlyn smiled. "See? This isn't as hard as we thought it would be."

"Yeah, maybe, but we had some issues in the beginning," AJ reminded her with a chuckle.

The two women were sitting on the floor of what was going to be the baby's room, assembling the white, wooden crib. It would be their final constructed item after a long day of building and shopping. They'd purchased all of the essentials, paid for in cash, at Punk's behest. The walls around them were painted a bright, sunny yellow, a job completed solely by Punk the night before. When the crib was done, it would join the changing table, bookshelf, dresser, and rocking chair- the room was shaping up quite nicely, AJ thought rather proudly.

"So where did Punk go off to, anyway?" Kaitlyn asked, securing the bolt.

"Oh." AJ was silent for a moment. She knew exactly where Punk had gone tonight- he was with Colt, Dean, Seth, and Roman completing their final job for their boss. She'd spent the entirety of last night clinging to him after Kaitlyn went to bed in the guest room, whispering gestures of love into his ear. No matter how many times he assured her that it was going to be just another job, she still couldn't quash her feelings. She was terrified for his safety, as well as that of his friends- men who had practically become her brothers over the course of her relationship. "He's with his friends," she said finally.

"The guys I met last night at dinner?" Kaitlyn asked with a small smile, and AJ nodded in confirmation. "I really like them. Especially Seth. That's the one with the two-tone hair, right? He's cute."

Despite her nervous she was, AJ laughed. "Oh, come on," she teased. "You wouldn't go more for the strong, silent type, like Roman?"

"Nah, too bulky," Kaitlyn answered, making a face. "When are they going to be back? I thought they were cooking dinner or something."

"They're supposed to," AJ agreed. But as she glanced down at the time on her phone, she saw it was nearing 9 PM. "I doubt that's happening, though. But I hope they'll be back soon."

* * *

"Don't lie to me!" Colt jeered. "You've been eyeing Kaitlyn, and you know it!"

Seth merely waved him off. "Yeah, whatever," he muttered.

"You totally were," Dean pointed out. "All through dinner last night. You couldn't keep your eyes off her. Just admit it, lover boy. You've got eyes for this one."

"Oh, like you're one to talk!" Seth shot back. "You _melted _when AJ showed you the ultrasound picture the other day. You haven't cursed about quitting since!"

"Aw, come on," Dean grumbled. "It was… cute."

"_Cute_," Roman spat with raucous laughter. "I can't believe it. You going soft on me, Ambrose?"

"No!" Dean cried, instantly flustered. "I just… fuck, can't I think a baby's going to be cute?"

Laughter filled the van again. "All right, all right," Punk piped up finally. "Settle down, guys. Get your heads in the game. We're almost there."

"Ah, come on," Colt said lightly. "We're just having some fun. Besides, you should be happy we already like your kid." He punched Punk's shoulder playfully.

"And your baby mama's best friend," Roman added with another chuckle.

Punk forced a smile at all of them; he was grateful for their support, truly, but he couldn't relax tonight. He knew he wouldn't be able to relax until this job was done and he was home in bed, curled up against AJ. He wondered if she and Kaitlyn had finished building all the furniture yet. He wondered if she was missing him as much as he was missing her.

"Okay," Colt said as they pulled up the warehouse. "Let's do this." He sighed. "Fuck, I hate being in the field…" He hopped out of the van as Roman opened the door. "So what are we doing?"

"Exactly what Alberto told me," Punk answered as he came around the side of the van. "We're handing off the product to the buyers." He straightened his shirt over his vest. "It should be simple, but be on your guard. It's a huge handoff. 1.7 million dollars."

"Fuck," Seth muttered.

"Damn," Dean whistled.

"Yeah," Punk confirmed with a nod. "So let's get this done."

Roman and Seth went to unlock the door, lifting it up so Dean could back the van into the building. Colt and Punk followed behind them, guns drawn at the ready. As Roman flicked the switch to illuminate the warehouse, all eyes fell to the crates in the middle of the vast room, and an eerie silence swept over them. This shipment was different; it wasn't weapons, like they were all used to. No, this was drugs.

"All right!" Punk called. "Come on. Let's get started." He just wanted to get this over with.

As the five of them converged on the boxes, a startling sound began to echo from behind them; clapping. Punk immediately whipped around to face the door, gun drawn.

"You don't have to aim that at me," Randy said easily. "We're just here to congratulate you all on your final shipment." He nodded to his men, who had been clapping as well.

"What are you doing here?" Punk demanded, his aim never wavering. "We're just loading the shipment. You're supposed to be at the drop point."

"We thought we'd meet you here!" Randy informed him cheerfully. "What's wrong, Punk? Nervous?"

"Del Rio's directions were to meet at the drop point," Colt answered for him coldly.

"Get the fuck out of here," Punk snapped.

"There are people behind us," Dean hissed, nudging Punk with his elbow. "People in the warehouse. There are people in the fucking warehouse."

"Orton, what the hell is going on?" Punk shouted, his voice echoing off the high walls and ceiling. He didn't like this, Randy showing up so suddenly. This whole thing reeked of bad intentions, and suddenly, Punk realized why he'd been so anxious this whole week- this operation was rigged from the start. Something was definitely wrong.

"Get down!" Seth shouted from behind Punk suddenly. "It's a double-cross!" But before Punk could even react, he felt a sharp, searing pain at the base of his skull as the butt of a rifle smashed against him. The last thing he heard as he fell was Dean screaming for him.

But Punk was only unconscious for a moment. He awoke a short time later to gunfire all around him, bullets whizzing only inches above him. His head was throbbing violently, but he didn't have the time to focus on the pain right now. If he didn't get behind cover, _fast_, he was going to be dead. He quickly rolled away, dragging himself behind the crates he would later learn had been empty the whole time.

"Punk!" Colt cried. He was behind the stack of crates, too. "Jesus, fuck, I thought you were dead!"

"I'm fine," Punk assured him. "The others?"

"In the rafters," Colt answered. "All fine."

"How many do we have?"

"I think Randy and his boys in front are down," Colt replied quickly. "But there are still more behind us. Maybe five or six, at least. I think Seth and Dean are cornered up there."

"Then we have to get to them," Punk said firmly. "I've got eyes in front."

"I'll take the back."

In one quick motion they bolted from behind the boxes, back to back as they made their way up the stairs. Punk picked off a lone gunman across from him, while Colt took down another a few feet away. They made steady progress up the stairs, reaching Dean and Seth on the catwalks. "Dean!" Punk yelled over the gunfire below. "Where's Roman?"

"Pinned down in the office!" Dean called back. "We've got things here! Go!"

Punk ducked around Colt, leaving him to support Dean and Seth as he darted across the catwalk. He quickly reached the office at the end of the walkway, where he observed through the window Roman in a standoff with another of Randy's men. Wasting no time, he positioned himself at the window, aiming through the window and firing at Roman's captor. The man instantly fell and Roman ran to the door, clearly grateful for Punk's interference. They hurried to join the others.

But only moments later, the firefight was over. It was only then Punk realized the whole ordeal had taken less than five minutes overall. The carnage all around them was easily apparent- bodies and bullet holes everywhere. The group was silent for a moment, the only sounds uttered heavy breaths as they tried to understand just what exactly happened here.

"The fucker double-crossed us," Dean growled, the first to break the silence. "I can't believe it. I can't fucking believe it. What the fuck are we supposed to do now?"

Punk's mind was racing. He was too stunned to respond for a moment, but everyone, even Colt, was looking to him for guidance. He had to act fast. "We have to clean this up," he said, stowing his gun in the waistband of his jeans. "Now. Pick up all the shell casings, and take care of the bodies. No one can find these guys and trace them back to us."

"What?" Seth cried. "We're just gonna-"

"Come on!" Punk snapped. "We don't have time for this! Let's go, now!"

Everyone sprang into action. They hunted for spent bullets until every one of them that wasn't lodged in a body was accounted for, even going as far as to pry them out of walls. Next, they took the wallets off the bodies, before finally dragging them into Randy's pickup truck and parking it in one of the large shipping containers at the back of the warehouse and locking it. With all signs of their struggle erased, they piled into the van. Ideally, Punk would have liked to burn the entire warehouse down, but they didn't have the time or resources for that. He would just have to hope this was enough.

"Fuck," Seth groaned as Dean drove. "What the fuck are we going to do now?"

"He's trying to kill us, isn't that clear?" Colt snapped.

"We have to leave the city," Roman added.

"No, no, he's not trying to kill us!" Punk yelled, loud enough to silence the rest of him. As they had worked to erase their presence from the warehouse, he'd been wracking his brain for an answer. And he was sure he had it now. "He knows Randy is an incompetent bastard. I'm sure Alberto sent him with orders to confront and kill us, but he knows we're better. He knows Randy would never be able to take us down. No, this was a message that we're on his bad list now. He wants something from us. I just can't figure out why he would want to be this dramatic about it."

And then it dawned on him. It was also a distraction.

"Dean, step on it!" Punk cried. "Come on, hurry up! We have to get back to my house, _now_!"

"All right, all right," Dean replied, speeding up as he wove the van through the streets.

"Why?" Colt asked. "What's… oh, fuck." The realization hit him, too.

"You don't think he's…" Seth began.

"Going after AJ?" Roman finished.

"Of course he fucking is!" Punk yelled, hands shaking as he gripped the edge of his seat. "Get a fucking a move on! Come on, go! Go, go, go!" No. This wasn't happening. It couldn't. He was going to get home and AJ would be furious with him for being so late, then cry and collapse against him as she saw he was covered with blood, and strip him of his clothes and drag him to bed with her…

They pulled into the driveway. The front door was ajar.

Punk jumped out of the van before Dean had even fully stopped. He darted into the house, followed quickly by the others. The coffee table in the living room was broken in half; Clark and Nacho lay amongst the ruins of it, huddled together in a shivering mass of fur. "AJ?" he cried desperately, his heart pounding painfully against his ribs. "Kaitlyn? Where are you! Guys!" There was no answer as the others joined him. He ran past the living room and into the hallway, where he discovered Kaitlyn on the floor.

"Oh, no, Kait, what happened?" Punk pleaded, running to her. Seth beat him there, and she groaned as he turned her over in his arms; she'd been badly beaten and had a sizeable gash on the side of her head, but was very much alive.

"Kaitlyn, talk to me," Seth begged.

"They took her," Kaitlyn moaned.

"Who?" Punk cried as the others crowded around them. "Who took AJ, Kaitlyn?"

"Four men… in masks… they took her and said you were going to pay for leaving."


	18. Chapter 18

"_Stop teasing me," AJ groaned as she straddled him. "Just touch me already!"_

_Punk laughed. "You know," he said, dragging his hands down her chest, "I'm really liking this pregnancy thing so far. I love how horny it makes you. You're just… you're insatiable. I think it's great."_

"_Oh, stop it," she giggled, inhaling sharply as his thumbs rolled against her nipples._

"_No, I'm serious," he told her with a grin. "But you know the best part?" He sat up, nipping playfully at her shoulder before whispering in her ear. "The sex with no condom."_

"_Shut up!" she snapped, shoving him down onto the bed. "I'm not waiting any longer." She leaned over him, sinking her teeth into the tender flesh of his neck. He hissed back at her and gasped, throwing his head back as she reared her hips up over him. She impaled herself on him, sliding up and down his hardened length in a way that made him desperately growl her name. His hands tightened on her thighs, rolling her on him body in a sweet, beautiful motion with his that drove them both over the edge._

_What seemed like eons later, her body collapsed in a sweaty heap on top of his."Oh, baby," she whispered, nestling against the apex of his glistening chest. "Do we deserve to be this happy?"_

_He took a deep breath to get his wind back before chuckling. After years of murdering drug dealers, selling big guns to bad men, and helping to grow one of the most violent, deadly businesses in the world? "I sure as hell don't," he replied, rubbing her back in slow, rhythmic circles, "but you do." He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I love you."_

_She smiled back, her bright brown eyes shimmering with hope. "I love you, too," she murmured back._

That was only three short nights ago. And now she was gone.

"Fuck!" Punk shouted, slamming his hands against the wall. "Fuck, no… _Fuck_!" His fist drove straight into the wall, plaster crumbling around his knuckles. Before he could stop himself, images flooded his mind. He imagined AJ being dragged out of the baby's room, maybe by her hair. He imagined Alberto's men tossing her carelessly into their van, ignoring her cries and pleas as they sped off with her into the night. He imagined her clutching her stomach in pain, whispering silent prayers for their baby to be okay.

The images were the sharpest of blades, straight to his heart.

"Punk, you've gotta calm down," Colt told him sternly as Seth scooped Kaitlyn into his arms, depositing her gently onto the bed in the guest room.

"I can't calm down!" Punk yelled back. "Del Rio fucking kidnapped my girlfriend! We've- we've gotta go! We've gotta get moving! We have to go after them!"

"So, what, you want to hop in the car and drive down to Juarez?" Colt asked. "Because you know that's where they're going. That's crazy. We have to calm down and think about this for a second."

"We don't have time for that," Punk growled impatiently. "We have to move! They'll kill her!"

"No, they won't!" Dean snapped. "You said it yourself, Punk."

"It's a message," Roman added. "He's not looking to kill us, and he's not going to kill her, either. So he's sending a message. He kidnapped her to be a hostage."

"Fuck," Punk groaned again, sinking down against the wall. "This whole thing was fucked from the very beginning. He's been planning this since we told him we were quitting."

"Then it's _your _goddamn fault!" Dean accused him, shaking an angry index finger toward him.

"Is it, really?" Seth challenged, coming out of the guest room. "We knew this business was dangerous when we got into it. It's a fucking miracle nothing like this has happened before. We've been pretty damn lucky so far, and you can't just blame everything that happens on Punk! He dragged our sorry asses out of the gutter when we were kids, remember?"

"Oh, get off his dick already!" Dean shot back. "You're always defending him. You ever think that maybe he's not a fucking genius, huh? You ever think he's just making it up as he goes along?"

"All right, all right, enough!" Colt demanded. "Both of you, shut the fuck up! I have to treat you assholes like kids sometimes. Grow up." He sighed, sitting down on the couch. "We have to figure this out."

"He'll call," Roman reminded them calmly. "He's not just going to stay silent. He'll call."

"Um, hello?" came a terrified squeak from beside Punk.

Punk immediately turned to find Kaitlyn beside him. She had herself propped up against the wall, but she was standing. "Kaitlyn, you should lie down," he told her gently. She was badly bruised, and the dried blood around her wound looked gruesome.

"No!" she cried. "One of you needs to tell me what's going on, now! You seem to know who took my best friend, and why. If you don't explain yourselves, I'm calling the cops!"

Seth sighed. "Let me take care of that cut," he said, walking over to her. "I'll explain everything. Punk, where's your medical kit? Under the bathroom sink, like it used to be?" Without waiting for an answer, he looked for himself, grabbed it, and pulled Kaitlyn back into the guest room.

"So what now?" Roman asked, turning to Punk. Normally, he was the leader with the answers.

But not tonight. Tonight, he could only wait for Alberto's call.

* * *

AJ couldn't remember much about what happened when the masked men broke into the house. All she could recall was opening the door for the pizza deliveryman, only to find herself surrounded. She tasted cloth and bitter chemicals; she heard Kaitlyn screaming; and then, darkness.

She awoke to darkness now, and movement. Her body bounced up and down uncomfortably. She tried to steady herself, but her hands were bound behind her back, and a strip of cloth secured around her mouth prevented her from doing much more than muffled cries. Where was she? Why was she here? Wasn't Punk going to come for her? She began to sob, struck by terror. But with the gag, she could only choke on her tears, her breath hitching painfully in her throat.

"Hey," a hushed voice sounded from somewhere around her. "She's awake." Several voices immediately broke into hurried Spanish. AJ struggled to understand them; while she was of Puerto Rican descent, she was born in New Jersey, and she only spoke Spanish when speaking with her grandparents. They had passed away years ago, and she hadn't spoken the language regularly since.

"Sorry, mami," the first voice said finally, in a thick accent. "We can't take your blindfold off yet. But if you promise not to scream, I can take out your gag. Okay?"

Her response was muffled, so she could only nod. She yelped as the man yanked the cloth from her mouth, and she spat angrily. But at least she could breathe now. "Where am I?" she demanded. "Why did you take me from my house? Where are we going? Where's my boyfriend?"

"Just relax, baby girl," the man replied easily. "We're on our way to the airstrip. We're going to Juarez."

"Juarez?" she cried. "We're going to Mexico? Oh my God…" A vice gripped at her throat. It suddenly all made sense. This was no random kidnapping. These men were working for Punk's former boss, Alberto Del Rio. And they were taking her to his headquarters, all the way in Mexico…

She started to scream.

"Shut her up!" another man yelled. "Now!"

The first man immediately grabbed her, shoving her against what she could only assume was the wall of the van. "Be careful," she pleaded with him. "I'm pregnant!" But her pleas did nothing to still the man's aggression. He held her down and stuffed the cloth back into her mouth.

"And now you get to be quiet until we're on the plane," he snapped.

AJ curled up on the floor, bringing her knees as close to her chest as she could. Completely robbed of her senses, all she could do was listen to the threatening pound of her heart and the low, rumbling voices of the dangerous men around her. _Please come for me, Punk, _she pleaded silently, biting back the tears she knew she would choke her. _Please. I need you. We need you._


	19. Chapter 19

When AJ awoke the next time, she was on a plane. She couldn't recall falling asleep, and could only assume she'd been drugged once again. Like the last time, she hoped whatever they gave her wouldn't affect the baby. But unlike the last time, when she opened her eyes she wasn't bound, gagged and blindfolded. She'd been deposited into a seat at the back of the plane, and the sound of the engine was deafening. The plane wasn't large; it was clearly a private aircraft, with only a few rows of seats. Her four captors were spread out amongst the rows. Two were sleeping, one was listening to an iPod, and the last was seated across from her, gaze trained directly on her. Cold, calculating brown eyes, that struck her straight to the heart with fear.

"Where… where are we?" she whispered, drawing her knees up to her chest.

"We're over Texas," the man answered coolly, crossing his arms over his chest. "We're landing soon." She recognized his voice- he was the man she'd spoken to earlier. Was he also the one who drugged her again? She thought so. He certainly looked heartless enough.

She winced slightly, clutching her stomach. The nausea was back again. _Wonderful, _she thought. _This is only the worst possible place to get sick. _But thankfully, there wasn't anything in her stomach to throw up. So she could only curl against the seat in pain, groaning quietly.

"Hey," the man asked. "You all right?"

"I'm fine," she muttered back, shooting him a sidelong glance. "Just morning sickness. I'm pregnant."

"Yeah, you said that before," he said, studying her curiously. "You don't look pregnant."

"I'm only 2 and a half months along," she replied quietly. "I haven't gained much weight yet."

He nodded. "Right. Okay." He was silent for a moment, adjusting the rolled up white bandana that was tied around his forehead. Then he smiled. "Boss is looking forward to meeting you."

AJ didn't respond. Why was one of her kidnappers attempting to make conversation with her? She didn't want to talk to him. She didn't want to talk to anyone. She wanted to close her eyes and wake up back in her bed, next to Punk. Then she wanted to make breakfast with Kaitlyn. Maybe pancakes. They would make enough for the boys, then grumble good-naturedly as they cleaned up the mess they made.

But she knew that wasn't going to happen for her today. As the plane began its descent and she buckled her seatbelt rapidly, she wondered if a morning like that would ever happen again.

* * *

The plane touched down under the cover of darkness on a lone airstrip in a wide field. The only man who had spoken to her on the flight-who she heard one of the other men refer to as Hunico-grabbed her lightly by the arm and led her down the steps, across the tarmac, and over to a waiting SUV. She had to wonder if the reason he was being so gentle with her was that he now believed she was pregnant. But was it possible for a man who worked for Alberto Del Rio to show her that sort of kindness? She remembered that indeed it was- one of them was the father of her baby.

As they drove, the sun began to peek out from the horizon. By the time the car reached the bottom of a long, winding driveway that rose up a hill, it had fully risen. That meant it was roughly a 20 minute drive from the deserted airstrip… and aside from the sprawling compound the car was rapidly approaching, she had to see any signs of civilization. Even if she managed to escape somehow, she had absolutely no idea what direction she was supposed to go in. She would likely die out here if she tried.

She couldn't help but gasp as they were waved through the gate. This compound was much larger than she ever thought it would be. There were beautifully maintained gardens just inside the tall concrete walls, rich with colored flower petals that reached all the way up to the mansion. Workers were already bustling about the foliage, trimming and watering.

But the gardens were nothing compared to the mansion itself. It was two stories tall with a wide-open veranda, and from the way the driveway spiraled around, AJ could see the massive pool in the backyard. Everything was ornate, with terra-cotta tiling and slated pueblo-style roofs… it looked like, she thought, a presidential manor of some sort. It belonged on the cover of a magazine. Were she not a captive of this place, the beauty would be absolutely breathtaking.

The car pulled up at the top of the hill, stopping right in front of the house. All of the men jumped out, Hunico circling around to the other side to open AJ's door and help her out. He couldn't help but chuckle at her expression as he led her up the driveway. "Intense, isn't it?" he asked with a smirk.

She merely shook her head at him, silent as they made their way onto the porch. The other men stood back while Hunico stepped forward, loosening his grip on her arm (which she was thankful for). He was clearly the leader of this little party. "_Mi patron_!" he called into the house. He quickly stepped back beside her afterwards, falling silent.

AJ's first glimpse of Alberto nearly made her stumble. He was tall, for one- much taller than she would have expected, and he wore a shockingly white suit. His slicked-back hair reminded her faintly of Punk's. But it was the wide, million-dollar smile that terrified her the most. His shark-like, devilish smile sent a bolt of fear to every nerve, to the end of every hair, under each of her nails. She understood now, before he even said a word, why Punk and the boys had been so afraid of quitting.

"April," Alberto said smoothly, "welcome to my home."

* * *

"It's been hours," Punk grumbled angrily, pacing back and forth across the living room. He'd been at it for hours, reluctant to stay still for even a moment. "Why hasn't he fucking called?"

"Calm down," Seth advised gently, rising from the couch.

"How the fuck can I calm down?" Punk yelled back, stopping dead in his tracks to face Seth. "That son of a bitch kidnapped my _pregnant _girlfriend! Should I sit and watch TV and wait for it to blow over?"

"No, but you'd better stop yelling!" Kaitlyn snapped, emerging from the guest room.

"I have every right to yell," Punk growled at her. "And this is my goddamn house. If you don't like it, then you can get the fuck out of here right now." He knew she was almost as upset as he was; she hadn't taken everything well when Seth explained it to her earlier. It took several hours of begging, pleading, and a little bit of flirting to persuade her not to go straight to the police. But what really convinced her was Seth's insistence that, if cops were involved, AJ would most likely be killed the instant Alberto caught word of what was going on.

"I am not going _anywhere _until you get AJ back, do you understand?" Kaitlyn hissed. "It's _your _fucking fault she was taken, because she has too good a heart to make sure your ass gets thrown in jail where it belongs! Everything was going just fine for her before you came along. She was getting over Daniel, she was settling into her job well, and everything was just _fine_! But you just barged right into her life, and now she's been swept off to Mexico, and-"

"All right, all right," Seth cut in. He was keenly aware that Kaitlyn was edging on ripping Punk's throat out. "Why don't you relax and talk to me for awhile while I change your bandage?" Before she could say another word, he took her by the hand and led her back to the guest room. With one last searing glare over her shoulder at Punk, she slammed the door behind them.

"Well," Roman said coolly as he returned from the kitchen with a glass of water, "that went well."

"She's right," Punk muttered, finally ending his laps around the living room and sitting on the couch. They had yet to clean the wreckage of the coffee table, which still lay broken in the middle of the room. "AJ had everything going for her. And I completely fucked it up by being the dick I am."

"Don't be too hard on yourself," Roman told him. He opened his mouth to say more, but quickly closed it when he realized he had nothing left to say. Both of them realized that Kaitlyn was right. Had it not been for Punk's involvement, AJ's life wouldn't be in danger.

Punk sighed heavily, rubbing the dark circles that had formed beneath his eyes. He hadn't slept in a day and a half, and it didn't look like that was going to change any time soon. But as he glanced around the room, a thought occurred to him. "Hey, where's Dean?" he asked as Clark jumped onto the couch.

"Oh, he's in the baby's room," Roman answered. "He's putting the rest of the crib together."

In spite of everything, Punk laughed as he scratched Clark behind the ears. It did surprise him that Dean of all people would be hard at work on _anything _for the baby, with his prior reluctance toward the entire situation. But it was just like him to continue someone else's unfinished project, if only to occupy both his hands and his mind. Punk would have to remember to thank him later, when all of this was over.

_Over_. The word sent a pang right to his gut. How would all of this end? Would AJ ever be back safely in his arms? Would he ever get to hold his child? Or would he be burying both of them, weeping for the woman of his dreams and the sweet little angel he never got to know? All he knew now, at this point, was that it would surely end in blood. He would not rest until Alberto paid for this.


	20. Chapter 20

"Please, sit down," Alberto offered, gesturing widely toward one of the couches on the porch. He looked to his men, particularly Hunico. "Thank you for bringing her this far, gentlemen. I'll speak with you later." He waved them away and they quickly scattered, leaving him alone on the porch with AJ. "Please, April. Won't you have a seat? I'm sure you're exhausted."

"No, I'm-I'm fine," AJ squeaked, tilting her head slightly so her gaze wouldn't meet his. She refused to take any feigned kindness from this man. But even as she remained outwardly firm, she could feel her body wavering. She hadn't eaten anything since yesterday afternoon with Kaitlyn, and the affects were beginning to take hold. Her legs, already weak, began to buckle slightly.

He laughed, looking her up and down. "Look at yourself," he said. "You're obviously very tired. I was told by my men you're having a baby. That's true, isn't?" She nodded, and he chuckled again. "Of course... It all makes sense now. He got you pregnant, and now you want him to be a straight-laced family man for you and your child. Is that what it's all about?"

"He's a good man!" she cried suddenly, before she could stop herself. "He's a good man, he'll be a good father to our baby, and he deserves better than being part of your terrible world!" She instantly shut her mouth afterward, terrified of the possible repercussions for her outburst.

But to her surprise, he merely laughed at her again. "A good man?" he echoed. "Oh, you're so young and naïve. If you knew even half of the things he's done at my direction, you would have run from him a long time ago. He wasn't born into this life the way I was. He was 22 years old when he came into this business. He knew what he was getting into. He _chose _this. Don't be deluded about the man you fell in love with, April. Whatever he's said or done to convince you he's a good person… don't be fooled."

"No…" she muttered, shaking her head. He was just trying to get under her skin. She knew this game. But as she slowly moved away from him, she began to feel horribly dizzy again. She wasn't sure if it was his piercing words or the nausea again, but the world was swimming before her again. She started to sway back and forth. Eventually her body fell back, and the last thing she saw before everything went dark was Alberto running forward to catch her.

* * *

It was close to 10 AM when Colt returned to the house, bringing breakfast with him. "Come on," he urged as he set the bagels down on the kitchen counter. "You assholes haven't eaten in hours." He shot a sidelong glance at Punk, who sat completely still on the couch. "Especially you. Get up." They all joined Colt in the kitchen. Seth, Dean, and Roman instantly dug into the meal provided, but Punk was reluctant. He leaned against the counter, pressing his palms against his eyes with a heavy sigh.

"Where's Kaitlyn?" Roman asked.

"Other room," Seth answered. "She won't come out and she's refusing to talk."

Dean shrugged. "Figures," he muttered as he swallowed a bite. Then he frowned. "Hey, what's the matter?" He nudged Punk with his elbow a few times. "Eat."

"I can't," Punk muttered, shaking his head. He knew his body needed the nourishment, but he couldn't bring himself to eat while constantly imagining everything AJ was going through. His stomach did somersaults again, just thinking about it. "I'd probably end up throwing it up anyway."

Colt glanced at him curiously as he took a bite of his bagel. "You know _you're _not pregnant, right?"

"Shut the fuck up," Punk snapped, shoving his chair back and standing up. "If any of you stupid fucks had _ever _had a meaningful relationship in your lives, you'd know how shitty this feels!"

"Hey, calm down," Seth shot back. "We love her too, man. I know it's different for you, but you can't-"

The shrill ring from Punk's phone silenced them all. He quickly pulled it out of his pocket, staring at the number- Alberto. Resisting the urge to scream into the phone as soon as he answered, he bit down hard on his lower lip before bringing the phone up to his ear. "Hello?" he hissed through gritted teeth.

"How many hours have you been waiting by the phone, Punk?" Alberto asked, his voice dripping with pride. "Have you been awake this whole time, sitting there in your new house with your buddies?"

"Give her back to me, Alberto!" Punk growled. "Whatever I did, whatever you want, it's not about her! This is between you and me, and she's completely innocent! Let her go!"

"Oh, but it's _all _about her," Alberto corrected. "She's the reason you wanted out, isn't it? She and the baby she's carrying? Are you sure it's even yours, Punk? She _is _a pretty young thing. Are you sure yours is the only bed she's been sharing? Maybe she wouldn't mind-"

"You keep your fucking hands off her!" Punk yelled. His whole body tensed with rage; he wished he could leap through the phone and strangle the bastard, to squeeze the life out of him and make him suffer a long, agonizing death. If he laid a single finger on her head… "I swear, I'll fucking kill you!"

Alberto howled with laughter. "You would like to kill me, wouldn't you?" he asked. "But you won't. I'll tell you what you're going to do, Punk. You and your men are going to continue working for me. You'll be moving shipments for me when and where I tell you. And if you stray from my directions in _any _way, you'll never see your woman again. Do you understand me, Phil?"

"When do I get her back?"

"We'll talk about that when I've seen you're all capable of being good boys," Alberto replied.

"Let me talk to her!" Punk demanded. "I want proof she's alive!"

"Oh, she's just fine," Alberto assured him. "She's sleeping now. Poor thing was exhausted after her ordeal… But I understand. Pregnancy is rough on the young, beautiful female body, isn't it?"

"Alberto, please," Punk begged. "Just give her back to me. She-"

"You'll be contacted later with further instructions."

The line went dead.

* * *

The room AJ woke up in this time was pretty. Cream colored walls, beautiful old furniture, and the big comfortable bed she was lying on. So soft, so comfortable… maybe she should just go back to bed… But it only took a moment for reality to sink back in, and she quickly drew her legs up to her chest. She remembered falling, and Alberto running to catch her. Had he been the one to carry her into this room? One of his many workers and servants, more likely. How long had she even been here?

She tentatively eased herself off the bed and crossed the room to the window, which looked over the elegant backyard. The early morning light had faded, giving way to the intense heat of the day. She guessed it was around noon, maybe a little later. That meant she'd been asleep here for several hours. She bit her lip, fighting the tears that began to sting her eyes as she leaned against the windowsill. She missed her bed. She missed her dog, and her cat. She missed her boyfriend. She wanted to be lying next to him in bed right now, stifling giggles as he kissed her stomach and soothed her with gentle whispers.

As her mind drifted back home, she wasn't even aware of the footsteps that drew closer to the room. She let out a shriek as the door opened, and she whirled around to face the person who burst into the room. It was Hunico, and he was leaning casually back against the door. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief, and instantly cursed herself for doing so. Just because this man had shown her the slightest bit of compassion didn't mean he was any less dangerous.

"You're awake," he observed.

"What happened to me?" she whispered, shrinking back against the windowsill.

"You passed out," he answered. "Nearly smacked your damn skull on the floor, too. Would have, if the boss man didn't catch you. I carried you up here."

"Oh." She slowly eased over to sit on the edge of the bed, as far away from him as possible. "Thanks."

"Yeah." He glanced out into the hallway for a moment before looking back at her. "You hungry?"

She was, terribly so. Her stomach was clenched angrily, begging her for food. But she refused to show any weakness. "A little," she admitted, her hand resting lightly over her belly.

He nodded. "I'll get Melina to bring you something," he said.

"Who's Melina?" she asked.

"She takes care of a lot of the domestic duties around here," he answered with a slight smirk. "Among other things." He pushed himself off the door, turning to leave. "She'll be up soon."

"Wait!" she called suddenly, just before he closed the door. "What's going to happen to me?"

His smirk faded. "That depends on what your boy does." He left.

She curled up on the bed, clutching one of the pillows for dear life. She wanted to destroy this room. She wished she could knock down the walls and punch Alberto right in his face, break those fucking teeth of us, and proudly return home to Chicago to her boyfriend and then play videogames with her best friend… But she couldn't. She was completely helpless, and it frustrated her to the point of tears. She cried into the pillow for what felt like hours, but only 20 minutes later there was a knock on the door.

"Are you awake?" asked a soft female voice.

AJ quickly turned over to find a beautiful woman with a kind face standing in the doorway. But she wasn't about to let her guard down, not even for an innocent-looking woman. In her short time with these people, she knew well enough that none of them were to be taken lightly. "I'm up," she said finally, her voice small and quiet.

"I'm Melina," she said. "I brought you lunch." She set a tray with a plate of empanadas and a glass of juice on the dresser. "If you need anything, ask your door guard for me. _El patron _says you're pregnant and I need to take good care of you." She practically spat the last statement; she didn't appear to be thrilled to be AJ's caretaker. "The bathroom is just through that doorway, by the way. There are clothes for you in the dresser. I'll be back to check on you later. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, it's… it's fine," AJ replied. "Thank you."

"Good." Melina turned and slammed the door behind her, the lock clicking shut.

As AJ ravenously ate the meal provided for her, she couldn't help but be perplexed by her treatment so far. Despite her kidnapping and a little rough handling in the beginning, she was being treated more like a guest than a captive. Why were they being so nice to her? What game was Alberto playing? She thought perhaps that not knowing scared her the most.

After devouring her lunch, she tentatively ventured into the bathroom. It was stark white and sparklingly pristine, just like the room before it. With some hesitation, she started to take her shirt off, but was startled by another knock on the door. Hunico burst in and she quickly ran back into the room to meet him. "Boss wants me to tell you not to shower or change yet," he said.

She froze. "Do you… have cameras in here?" she squeaked.

"What?" he asked with a frown. "No. He just told me to let you know. Why?"

"I was about to shower," she muttered, hugging her arms.

"Well, don't," he told her.

"Why?" she pleaded. "I feel disgusting." Her shirt was slightly torn and stained. Her cheeks were streaked with dirt and tears, and her hair was frazzled.

He actually smiled. "We're about to put on a show," he said.


	21. Chapter 21

_"Come here," he whispered huskily, grabbing her at the waist and pulling her against him._

_"Hey!" she scolded, but she was giggling. "Be careful. I'm pregnant!"_

_"I know," he muttered, pressing soft kisses up and down the length of her smooth throat. "I'll be gentle… with your stomach." With a sly grin he pushed her back playfully onto the bed, and pounced on her. His attack on her upper body was relentless, his hands roaming shamelessly over her beautiful flesh. Oh, how he craved the sweet sound of her breathless moans as her body writhed beneath his._

_"Oh, Punk!" she cried, throwing her arms around his neck. Her hips bucked pleadingly against his._

_"That's right, baby," he growled into her ear before nipping at it. She was so beautiful… he wanted to tear her remaining clothing away and just take her again, all of her, make her his again and taste her sinfully sweet skin… "Say my name again."_

_"Punk…" she groaned, digging her nails into his skin._

_"Again," he ordered."_

_"Punk!"_

"Punk!" Dean said urgently. "Come on. Wake up!"

He immediately shot out of bed, looking around wildly as he felt the space next to him; it was cold and empty. She wasn't there, and finally letting himself fall asleep only served to let his dreams torture him. Grumbling angrily, he turned to Dean, who stood at his bedside. He was ready to kick his friend out of his bedroom for interrupting the only shred of AJ he had left, but Dean's frantic expression was enough to make him pause. "What's going on?" he asked.

"There's a call waiting on your laptop," Dean replied quickly. "It's Alberto."

Punk stood up so quickly, he nearly knocked Dean over. Still wearing only shorts he rushed into the kitchen with Dean, where Colt, Roman, Seth, and Kaitlyn were already crowded around the computer. "Move," he ordered all of them, pushing his way to the counter. He could feel his heart pulsing rapidly as his fingers reached the keyboard, because he knew what this meant. If Alberto was calling him on the computer instead of the phone, that meant he wanted to use the webcam. It meant he had something show them. Swallowing hard, he pressed the enter key.

A full screen image instantly popped up. It was blurry and grainy. The camera was aimed at the corner of a poorly lit, dank-looking room; a basement, perhaps. Hanging from a pipe near the wall was a long chain, which secured a set of handcuffs around it. Squinting, Punk could make out a figure hanging from the cuffs, arms stretched high over their head with their feet barely touching the ground. As the image swam into focus and the camera zoomed in, everyone around the computer realized who it was.

AJ.

Punk nearly stumbled, his knees threatening to give out. Colt quickly grabbed him by the arm, forcing him to stand upright as he studied the frail frame of his girlfriend. She looked terrified, naturally. Her hair was stringy, her cheeks streaked with tears, her knees scraped and caked in dried blood. He could barely make out the slight bump beneath her frayed and torn shirt. "AJ!" he cried desperately, hoping his voice would make it through to her. "April! Can you hear me?"

"P-Phil?" she answered weakly. "Is that you?"

His heart slowed its frantic rhythm a little; she was conscious, and she could hear him. "It's me, baby," he answered, biting down hard on his lip to keep himself from screaming. In the corner of his vision he could see Kaitlyn open her mouth to do the same, horrified by the image of her best friend, but Seth quickly wrapped his arms around her gently and covered her lips with his palm.

"Punk, I-" AJ began, but as soon as she spoke, someone else stepped into the frame and covered her mouth with a strip of duct tape. Punk recognized the man instantly; it was Ricardo, Alberto's right hand servant. His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms as he watched Alberto join them.

"Satisfied?" Alberto asked with a grin, staring straight at the camera. "She's alive."

"Get her out of there!" Punk demanded. "Just let her go! I'll- I'll do whatever you want. Please, just let her go." He hated begging- Alberto didn't deserve to hear him plead. But he would cut off his arm and mail it to the drug lord if it meant getting her back safely.

"You'll do whatever I want," Alberto agreed, "and that's why I'll be keeping her. Now listen to me, and listen carefully. In three days, a new shipment of the product will be arriving. The drop off point will be at the house just outside of town. You'll do your job and report back to me. Is that completely understood, _Phillip_?" His lips popped with the emphasis he put on the name.

Punk could only nod stonily in answer, glancing around at the rest of the team; they all nodded as well. They had no choice but to comply with Alberto's demands, as much all of them to do so. AJ's life depended on entirely on their decisions… and how their boss felt that day.

"We'll talk soon," Alberto assured them cheerfully. "Oh, and one more thing… this is for filling my warehouse with bodies." He crossed the room to where AJ stood helpless, and brought his palm whistling across her cheek in a hard, painful slap.

"No!" Punk cried as AJ shrieked in pain, her body twisting backwards. He lunged at the screen as the screen went dark, Alberto having ended the call. Roman and Colt grasped his arms, holding their powerful friend back as he strained against their grip to fight for an image that had already faded. He shouted again and again, the world around him melting into the background. The only thing he could see was AJ's pained expression before him. He could hear her crying for him, begging him to save her…

He finally fell from his friends' grasp, collapsing back against the cabinets. He banged his fists against them furiously as tears formed, stinging his eyes as he refused to blink them away. His friends could only stand back and watch in horror as the strongest man they knew finally broke.

* * *

As soon as the camera was off, Alberto reached over and tore the duct tape from AJ's mouth. She groaned in pain, wincing and stepping back as much as she could; he had not been gentle. "You put on an excellent performance, April," he told her with a broad smile.

"I didn't have to perform," she muttered, looking down. "You really hurt me." Her cheek still stung sharply; she imagined she would have a large handprint for days to come. But the slap wasn't the only thing that hurt. Even despite her cries, she heard Punk on the other end of the line, screaming for her. She knew that terrifying sound would stay with her forever.

"A necessary evil," he agreed somberly. His tone actually made her wonder for a moment- did he really care? No. Of course not. He was a shark. "Ricardo! Cut her down and take her back to her room." He turned around, shooting her one last smile over his shoulder before stalking up the stairs.

Silently, the smaller man called Ricardo stalked over to her. He reached up to where her wrists were secured over her head, unlocking the cuffs and freeing her. She gasped, smoothing her palms over her wrists as blood rushed back to them. Before she could even get used to having her arms free again, Ricardo grabbed her roughly and began leading her up the stairs.

"Hey!" she snapped as they reached the first level of the house. "That hurts!"

"Shut up," Ricardo growled. "You're going back to your room."

"I know, but you don't have to be so mean!"

"Shut up!" he cried. "Just-"

"What the fuck is your problem?" Hunico demanded as he marched down the hallway toward them. "You don't know how to treat a lady, Rodriguez?"

"I was just- but she's only a-" Ricardo began.

"Get out of here," Hunico ordered. "I'll take her back. Go! Just go!" Ricardo didn't have to be told twice- clearly, he was terrified of Hunico. He dropped AJ's arm and took off down the hallway, disappearing from sight. As soon as he was gone, Hunico turned to her with a grimace. "Sorry about that. Ricardo is always trying to please the boss man. He tries so hard sometimes he forgets what he's doing."

"Oh," she muttered, avoiding his gaze. She wasn't sure what to think about these people anymore. She was silent as he led her up the stairs to the second floor, through the maze of hallways and back to the room with the large deadbolt on the door. He unlocked it and followed her inside.

"You can, uh, shower now if you want," he told her. He tapped the dresser with his fist. "We've got, um, clothes for you in here. Should be your size."

"I know," she replied quietly. "You told me."

"Oh. Right." He nodded. "Well, I'll leave you to do your thing." He left, locking the door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, AJ sighed heavily with relief. She went into the bathroom and eagerly shed her clothing, happy to finally be free of the ripped, dirty garments. She threw them in the wastebasket and turned on the shower. After waiting a moment for the water to warm up, she stepped beneath the stream and gasped. The hot water felt like heaven. She looked down between her feet, watching as dirt and blood spiraled down the drain, gone forever.

Suddenly, as she scrubbed her skin with the flowery soap provided for her, her memory jolted back to the last time she was able to shower. It was only a couple of days ago, the night before she was taken, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

_She'd been washing the last of the shampoo out of her hair when she heard the bathroom door open. She smiled to herself as a rush of cool air hit her back, the glass shower door sliding open behind her. "Occupied," she said calmly._

_"You will be soon," he muttered as he wrapped his arms around her from behind._

_She laughed, leaning back against his chest. "You're insatiable," she told him._

_He grinned, kissing her shoulder. "So are you," he whispered back. "I'm just glad we finally have matching appetites." His hands fell to her waist, kneading the tender flesh carefully between his fingers._

_"You know, I really love you," she murmured, sighing slowly._

_"I love you, too." One of his palms rested gently on her stomach. "Both of you."_

She found herself lying on the floor of the tub, sobbing and hugging her knees. Her tears mixed with the shower water that pelted her body. Her skin was numb, but she didn't care. All she could do was cry, biting her lip to stifle her shrieks as she dreamed far away of home.


	22. Chapter 22

Punk was completely silent for the rest of the day. After recovering from his outburst he locked himself in his room, refusing to speak to anyone. With their leader shutting down, Colt was left to fill his shoes for the time being. He gathered everyone (including Kaitlyn, who flat-out refused to be left out) in the living room for a meeting.

"So what the fuck are we supposed to do now?" Dean asked frantically, having taken to pacing the room yet again. "We can't rely on Punk. He's gone completely off the fucking deep end."

"Relax," Roman advised. "He just needs time to calm down."

"We don't have time," Seth reminded them. "We have to make a decision, now."

"Well, that's easy," Colt said simply. "We do the job."

"Do the job?" Dean cried. "You want to just put us at the mercy of that asshole and just _hope _he doesn't kill her, or kill _us _in this deal?" He shook his head wildly. "No, man. We have to go after her."

"I think he's right," Kaitlyn said firmly, nodding.

"You just shut up, all right?" Dean snapped with an angry glance at her, shaking his finger. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about. You shouldn't even be here!"

"What the hell is your problem?" Kaitlyn cried, sitting up straight. "I was agreeing with you!"

"Hey, hey, relax," Seth warned.

"Everyone just needs to-" Roman began.

"Everyone needs to _what_?" Dean challenged.

"All right, all of you just shut the fuck up!" Colt ordered, standing up. "All of you! None of you know what you're talking about. I've been doing this the longer than you!" He looked around the room menacingly, glaring everyone into silence. "All right. Are we all calm? Good. Now everyone listen. First things first. When Punk recovers from his little breakdown, he needs to go down to AJ's job and explain she's taking her pregnancy leave starting now because of complications. If she doesn't show up for work tomorrow, they'll either fire her or call the cops or something. Then we need to get our shit together and do this job. We can't get an operation together in three days. We need to act like we're complying and go along with Del Rio's plan for now."

Roman glanced around nervously. "We swept the place for bugs, right?" he asked.

"Yeah," Seth interjected. "The first night AJ was gone. No one's listening."

Roman sighed. "All right."

"Anyway," Colt continued, "then we need to rally the troops. Punk and I have some contacts, but we need to weed out who's loyal to us and whose ass still belongs to Mexico. Once we figure that out, we can start working on a plan to get her out."

"So we're all in agreement that we're not just leaving her there?" Dean asked.

"Of course," Colt replied.

"And what about me?" Kaitlyn demanded. "What the hell am I supposed to do now?"

Colt stared at her blankly. "What about you?" he asked.

"This is ridiculous!" she cried. "You assholes didn't just ruin AJ's life by falling into it, you know. You ruined mine, too. I was supposed to fly back yesterday and be back at work today. My gym is very strict. If you miss a session with a client, you're out. I got the email this morning. I'm not going _anywhere _until you get AJ back, so you may as well include me somehow."

"No," Dean replied instantly, shaking his head. "No way. There's no fucking way you're going with us. Absolutely not. You'll just get in the way, and you'll probably fucking get yourself killed, too!"

Kaitlyn said nothing. She could only give him a withering glare before storming out of the living room.

"Great," Seth growled. "Now look what you've done."

Colt merely shook his head and sighed. "Whatever," he muttered. He wasn't in the mood to deal with their bickering. "I'm going home. I'm tired and it's getting late. Anyone coming with me?"

"You're leaving?" Seth asked. "Seriously?"

"It's only two blocks away," Colt reminded him. "There's not enough space for us to keep staying here."

"I'm in," Dean offered. "But I'm taking the guest bed."

"Couch doesn't bother me," Roman muttered with a shrug. "Let's go." He stood up to grab his bag; Dean and Colt took theirs as well. He glanced over at Seth, who remained on the couch. "You coming?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I'll stay here. I don't want Kaitlyn and Punk getting into it."

"Good luck with that one," Dean said with a harsh chuckle. "Later."

They cleared out moments later, and Seth was left alone in the living room. He sat there in silence, hands clasped together over his forehead. He didn't know what to do. Life was simpler, much simpler, only a few short weeks ago, back when all that mattered was making money, getting drunk enough to enjoy himself, and getting laid. How did everything come to this? Was it even worth it, at this point? It took him a moment to think about it, but he decided it was. Punk was right. This life, of being able to make plans more than a few days in advance… He liked it.

But for now, it was day-to-day again. Until they got AJ back and put Alberto down for good.

Sighing heavily, he stood up. He knew Kaitlyn was likely sobbing in the other room. He couldn't just leave her there like that- he understood why she was so upset. Her entire life was just thrown for a loop. AJ, as he'd heard from Punk, had reacted much the same way. Kaitlyn responded fairly well to him so far. He was sure he'd be able to calm her again now.

"Kait?" Seth asked quietly, knocking lightly on the door. "It's me."

"Go away," she growled.

"Come on. Let me in. I want to talk."

"About _what_?" she snapped, throwing the door open. "You already made it pretty clear I'm not wanted around, even though the only thing I want is my best friend home safe. Why the fuck do they hate me so much, anyway? What have I done? All I want… All I want is to…" She couldn't even finish. She collapsed against him in tears, sobbing into his shoulder. He was silent through it all, calmly rubbing her back in gentle, rhythmic circles to comfort her.

"Shhh," he murmured soothingly. "It's gonna be okay."

"No," she whispered back. "It won't."

He laid his palms on either of her cheeks, tilting her face up to be level with his. "It will," he said firmly. "We're going to fix all of this. I promise." Her eyes, stung red with tears, met his slowly. Before he even realized what she was doing, she pressed a slow, gentle kiss to his lips. "Kaitlyn-"

"Shhh." She smoothed back his tied up hair, moving back in to meet his mouth again.

Seth was barely aware of tumbling back onto the bed with her moments later. Somehow, his shirt was gone; so was hers. He could feel her hands running over the hard, tanned muscles of his torso. He growled into her ear, suddenly eager to explore this beautiful body he'd been fantasizing about. And as he began stripping away at her clothing, he realized his fantasies didn't even come close to the real thing. She was so perfectly sculpted, and so hungry for him.

He kissed his way up and down the light, sweet skin of her body. She quivered beneath him, her hips rising to meet his in a silent question- no, it was more than a question. It was a plea. She was begging him. He gladly slid out of his pants, catching his wallet out of his pocket before kicking them off. Please, let there be a condom in there… He almost thanked his lucky stars out loud as he ripped open the foil package, rolling it onto himself as quickly as possible.

"Are you sure?" he whispered into her ear. Even as his whole being ached for her, he wasn't about to dive in unless she was absolutely ready, and sure she wanted him.

"I'm so sure," she whispered back.

He didn't have to be told twice. He reared his hips back and drove into her; his body nearly melted on top of hers. She felt so good. No woman had ever felt so good to be inside of. He heard her let out a tiny cry, finally sinking her teeth into his shoulder to muffle the sound. He bucked his hard-knobbed hips against hers as she met him in a beautiful rhythm.

"Seth," she moaned weakly into his skin. "Oh, Seth…"

His own name, spoken breathlessly in her voice, was music to his ears.

* * *

It was early the next morning when Punk finally emerged from his bedroom. It had been a long, agonizing, and sleepless day and night for him, but it was something he needed badly. He needed to face himself in the mirror, to take a hard look in his own eyes and come to terms with what he had to do. He hadn't spoken to Colt yet, but he knew his friend well enough to know what the plan was going to be. They would have to bide their time, for now. But when the time was right, they would strike. Alberto was a fool to cross them, but he wasn't that stupid. He wouldn't hurt AJ anymore than what was needed then to keep Punk and his boys in line.

He didn't like it. Hated it, in fact. Every time he thought back to AJ's shriek of pain and the sickening sound Alberto's palm made as it streaked across her cheek, he wanted to throw up again. But he would have to deal with what was thrown his way, for now.

He sighed tiredly as he entered the hallway. He was so exhausted he nearly had a head-on collision with Seth, who had just come out of the guest room. He was only wearing his boxer shorts.

"You're kidding," Punk said slowly, studying him carefully.

"What?" Seth asked, frowning slightly.

Punk nodded in the direction of the guest room. "Seriously? Her? Already?" He shook his head. "Whatever. Just don't screw it up and get me in trouble." He went into the kitchen, hearing Seth's footsteps echo behind him. "So where is everyone, anyway?"

"Went to Colt's house," Seth answered. "They'll be back later." Without even bothering to ask-he didn't need to by now-he opened the fridge and took out the carton of orange juice to pour himself a glass. "Dude, you look terrible. Did you even sleep at all? This whole time?"

"Not for a second," Punk admitted. "Hey, get me a glass of that."

Seth slid his own cup across the counter, getting another one for himself. He watched as Punk drained the entire thing in one sip, holding it out for a refill before Seth had even poured some for himself. Chuckling, he refilled Punk's glass and finally got some juice of his own.

"So," Seth said casually, taking a sip.

Punk nodded. "So," he said. "Uh, so this is pretty weird."

"What is?" Seth asked.

Punk took a sip before using his glass to gesture between them. "You and me. In my kitchen. In the morning. Drinking juice together. In our underwear."

"Oh." Seth nodded. "You're right. Yeah, let's not do this again."

* * *

AJ hadn't had much contact with people since Hunico dropped her off at her room. After her shower she saw only Melina, who stopped in later that evening to collect her old tray and bring her dinner. AJ accepted the meal gratefully, but Melina regarded her with the same cold demeanor she had earlier. AJ merely brushed it off, quickly wolfing down her dinner.

It went that way for the next few days. Melina came by three or four times a day, dropping off meals and checking on her periodically. It didn't take long for this arrangement to start driving AJ stir-crazy. Although she wasn't exactly a fan of the people around her, she desperately craved some type of human interaction. Being alone with her thoughts and a pretty view left her to think about Punk constantly, and that only drove her closer and closer to the brink of insanity.

By the third evening, AJ was sure they were going to leave her to rot like this forever. She couldn't go more than a few hours without crying or falling asleep and dreaming of being home. This existence was miserable. She was sure the pregnancy hormones were exacerbating how terrible she felt, but her mind was too clouded to allow her to push past them. She was actually starting to consider throwing herself off the balcony when there was a rough knock on the door.

"Hey," Hunico said as he entered. "You all right?"

She turned over on the bed to face him. "Yeah," she said quickly, sitting up. "I'm fine."

"You don't look okay," he observed. "You sure?"

"I'm sure," she muttered. "What's… what's up?"

It was only now that she observed the garment draped over her shoulder. He held it out before her, revealing it to be a slinky red dress. "Uh, the boss wants you to wear this," he explained. "You're having dinner with him later tonight."


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's note: Hey all! Chaos here. How's everyone doing? We're up to chapter 23 already, wow! I just wanted to let everyone know this chapter gets pretty heavy toward the end, so a warning to anyone who might get affected by the scene. I hope everyone's okay and enjoys the chapter, as well as Wrestlemania on Sunday!**

It took every ounce of self-control in AJ's body to remain outwardly calm as she brushed her hair before the mirror. _Dinner_. The man who was keeping her locked up in the most posh prison she'd ever seen, who was forcing her boyfriend and his best friends to continue working for him under threat of her own death, wanted to have dinner with her. And he was dressing her up to do it.

Looking down at herself now, she thought it was definitely this dress that bothered her the most. It was a deep, intimidating color red. It was low-cut and thin-strapped, with tight fabric that hugged her body perfectly in all the right places. It was so tight that her miniscule bump was visible. Were she going out for a night on the town, she may have chosen this type of dress herself. But why did it fit so well, along with the matching shoes she'd been provided? Was Alberto the type of man who knew a woman's size simply by eye-balling her? Did they take her measurements while she was drugged? And why did he require her to be dressed this way, anyway? The whole thing reeked of indecency to her.

There was a knock on the door a moment later. As she put the brush she'd found in the bathroom down on the dresser, she wondered why they even bothered knocking. It wasn't as though they would simply leave her alone if she didn't answer, or told them to go away. Sighing, she turned to the door. "Come in," she called softly. The lock clicked and Hunico entered the room.

"God _damn_," he hissed, whistling. She looked… incredible. Then he looked down, suddenly, embarrassed as AJ's cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "Shit, sorry. You, uh, ready to go yet?"

She nodded slowly, her breath hitching in her throat as she tried to speak. Swallowing hard, she opened her mouth to try again. "I guess so," she replied quietly, her voice slightly hoarse from being quiet for so long; she cleared her throat again. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"Oh, not far," he said. "Just downstairs. Let's, uh, let's go." His eyes finally met hers again, but they were strangely distant and vacant… ashamed, almost, and he looked away just as quickly. She stepped forward timidly, allowing him to take her by the arm and lead her out into the hallway. As they walked, she couldn't help but notice how slow their progress to the first floor of the house was.

"Is everything okay?" she forced herself to ask, biting her lip nervously as she studied him. She had to know. He was acting far too strangely. His eyes never met hers for more than a moment. He definitely knew more about this than he was letting on.

As they got halfway down the stairs, he stopped suddenly and turned to her. He glanced around nervously for a moment before ducking his head. "Look," he said in a hushed voice, "I just want you to know… whatever happens tonight… we're not all like him, okay? You already know that, because you're with Punk. He's a good guy. But I don't want tonight to make you forget. Boss is a big talker. Just let him keep talking until he's done. He might get to you, but don't fire back, okay?"

"Hunico?" she whispered, her lower lip quivering as tears formed in her eyes. "What's-"

"We don't have time," he said. "Come on."

* * *

The dining room was vast and decorative. AJ was sure the long, antique wooden table with only two place settings made the room look larger than it was, but it was intimidating nonetheless. Hunico closed the door behind her, leaving her alone mere feet away from a sharply dressed Alberto Del Rio. He flashed her a smile that sent a shiver up her spine.

"April," Alberto said happily. "I'm glad you could join me tonight."

"You say that like I had a choice," she shot back coldly.

He brushed off her remark and nodded his head toward the table. "Let's eat."

The meal laid out before her would look appetizing on any other night- steak, potatoes, an assortment of vegetables, a plate of tortillas, and wine. She was terribly hungry, but she couldn't bring herself to eat in front of him. "I can't drink wine," she snapped as she sat down. "I'm pregnant."

"I know," he replied, winking. "My glass has wine. Yours has juice."

"Whatever," she spat. She wasn't going to drink it anyway. She watched Alberto in silence as he began cutting up his steak. He lifted each piece to his mouth slowly, watching her as he chewed.

"You should eat," he advised. "You're pregnant. You need to keep your strength up, darling."

"I'm not hungry!" she cried, glaring at him angrily. "Why are we doing this, anyway? This is ridiculous!"

"I'm just trying to get to know you," he replied calmly. "After all, Punk has been my associate for twelve years. He once told me that nothing could pull him away from this business, and then you came along and suddenly he _and _the rest of his men want to jump ship! There must be something so alluring about you to make them love you enough to quit their entire way of life for you. What is it about you, April, that all of these man are so in love with? What made these bad boys try to turn around?"

"They were never bad to begin with," she snapped. "They're good men, all of them. They just got caught up in a bad business, that's all!"

He smirked at her. "You really still think that, huh?" he asked. "They're not, April. They've killed, all of them. They've killed men young and old. Your boy, your _Punk_, has killed teenagers. He's killed 15-year-old boys, failed drug mules, who begged on their hands and knees. Shot them point blank while they cried and begged for their lives. He's set fire to a house with an old woman inside. He may be sweet with pretty girls and the mother of his future child… but that doesn't mean he's a good man."

"Stop it!" she shrieked, shoving her chair back from the table and jumping to her feet. She nearly stumbled in her heels. "Fucking stop it! Just shut the fuck up! You don't know what you're talking about! I will _not _sit here and listen to you talk about him this way, you son of a bitch! Punk is a _good _man, and so are the rest of them, damn it! You don't know them at all!" Her heart was pounding faster than it ever had before- she was already weighing the consequences of her outburst.

He stood up as well, the whole table shaking with how fast he moved. "You think you know men like him?" he hissed, slowly and dangerously. "You think you know men like me?" She began to back away as he drew closer to her. But before she could clear any distance, he grabbed the front of her dress and yanked her forward. She let out a cry as she looked up, his face inches from hers. "_What do you think you know about men like us, huh_?"

Her veins pumped pure fear. He was easily a foot taller than him, and probably twice her weight. He could twist her into a pretzel, if he wanted to. She knew she would regret the next words out of her mouth, that she should listen to Hunico's warning and just let him say what he wanted to say, but she didn't care. No matter what happened to her, she had to believe what she knew in her heart to be true. "I know they aren't a piece of shit like you," she whispered back.

He spun her around to face the table, using his free arm to sweep the dishes to the floor in one fluid motion. She shrieked as he shoved her forward onto the table, her cheek pressed to the cool wood surface. "How does it feel, to know you're completely under my control now?" he whispered into her ear, leaning over her. "I could do whatever I want to you, and you're powerless to stop me."

"Yeah?" she challenged, before she could stop herself. "Does that make you feel like a big man, being able to control a pregnant girl half your size?" She couldn't stop the words from tumbling out. She refused to give in to him, no matter how much she feared him.

But her resolve was broken only seconds later. With an angry, fierce growl he stuck his hand under her dress, finding the hem of her underwear and yanking it down. "Feel like talking to me like that now?" he shouted, tearing her underwear away from her legs.

"No!" she cried. Her body lurched forward in a desperate attempt to get away from him, but there was nowhere to go. She was trapped between him and the table.

"You sure?" he howled, moving his hips back just enough to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. "Nothing to say, _puta_? Nothing to say to me, you little whore?"

"No!" she sobbed, tears of anguish and terror rolling down her cheeks. She struggled again, but his waist kept her pinned. "No, please! Please stop, I'm sorry!"

"You sure you want me stop, bitch?" he growled, digging his fingernails roughly into her shoulders. "You don't want to see if I feel better than that punk you're fucking? I'm sure you've fucked them rest of them, too! How do I compare to your tattooed wonder boy and his pals?"

She could feel him, already rock hard, pressed against her leg. "No," she begged. "Please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it! Please don't… _Please_!"

Just as he reared his hips back, the door to the dining room flew open. "Everything okay?" Hunico called from the other side of the room. "I heard yelling."

Alberto released her immediately, stepping back to fasten his pants. "Fine," he snapped. "Take this bitch back to her room. I'm done with her." He yanked her up off the table, sending her stumbling in Hunico's direction. Hunico quickly rushed over to grab her, leading her out and closing the door behind him.

As soon as they were alone, she collapsed to the floor in a fit of tears, her legs unable to support her anymore. Without a word he gathered her into his arms, carrying her up the stairs to her room. He deposited her gently onto the bed, sitting next to her and letting her hang onto him as she sobbed uncontrollably onto him. "What do you say?" he whispered, stroking her hair. "I told you, just let him talk. What did you say, mami?" Her only response was to cry harder, tightening his grip on her. "Shhh. It's gonna be okay. Just let it out."

It was then Hunico decided he'd stood by long enough. This wasn't going to happen again.


	24. Chapter 24

"That was insane," Seth muttered shakily, gently tapping at the angry red welt forming beneath his eye. He winced; it was painful, as the man who punched him had been wearing a large ring.

"That was _bullshit_," Colt snapped, smacking Seth's hand away before he could irritate his wound again. "They can't treat us like asshole little worker bees and use us as punching bags just because-"

"They _can,_" Roman interrupted brusquely. "We're on Del Rio's shit list, remember? That means any of his people can do whatever the fuck they want to us, because if we go against them…" He didn't even bother trying to finish his sentence. There was no need to.

"I just know I don't ever want that much… _product _in my van again," Dean muttered irritably. Transporting millions of dollars worth of drugs-for no money, even!-made him uneasy and furious and terrified all at the same time. He just wanted to go home and get so drunk he forgot his own name. But he knew he couldn't, and that only made him even angrier.

"Just shut up," Punk muttered from the back seat. "Everyone just shut the fuck up." He wasn't in the mood to listen to his friends whine anymore. He'd been on autopilot for the past few days, mostly keeping to himself. He knew if he opened his mouth any more than necessary, he would probably take his sour mood out on the others the way he did moments ago. He made sure the night's operation went flawlessly, of course, but it still left him feeling angry and hopeless. It had been three days since he last heard from Alberto, or heard AJ's voice, and he was becoming increasingly on edge as time wore on.

"Relax," Colt said calmly, turning to glance over his shoulder at his clearly distressed friend. "This part's over, and we're never doing another job for Del Rio again. Tomorrow we're gonna start making some calls. The plan will be in motion, and we'll get her back. Okay?"

"Yeah," Punk replied quietly, not meeting Colt's gaze. He just looked down at the floor of the van, picturing AJ's panicked expression the last time he saw her until they reached his house. He opened the door and hopped out before they even pulled in the driveway, eager to get inside and lay down. With so little sleep lately, his body was exhausted. He just wanted to fall into a dreamless sleep and forget about everything. Or better yet, turn back time and erase himself from AJ's life. Just rescue her from that creep at the bar, and never talk to her again. Maybe then, she would have been safe.

The crew followed behind him quickly. Kaitlyn appeared just as Roman closed the front door behind them all. "Oh, I'm so glad you're safe," she gushed, running to throw her arms around Seth's neck. He smiled lightly and returned the embrace, rubbing her back gently.

"Oh, come on," Dean grumbled, clearly annoyed. "No one wants to see that." Kaitlyn turned around to face Dean, glaring at him before planting a slow, sweet kiss on Seth.

"Fuck, I'm living in a junior high school," Colt sighed, massaging his temples.

"Well, get my best friend back, and I'll be out of your hair," Kaitlyn said nonchalantly, shrugging.

Punk let out an audible, frustrated growl, sick of the bickering. He opened his mouth to shout them all into silence when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. "Who the fuck needs to hear from me at nearly midnight?" he snapped, pulling it out to see who was calling… and he froze.

Colt recognized the expression on his face instantly. "Just answer it," he said calmly. "And don't blow up at him. Don't yell. Just talk, okay? Just talk."

All eyes in the room were trained on Punk as he slowly brought the phone up to his face. He bit his lip, hard, drawing blood before his thumb managed to find its way to the button. "Hello?" he hissed, lowering the phone to the table as soon as it was on speaker mode.

"Punk!" Alberto replied cheerfully. "Good to hear your voice, my friend. I've just gotten word tonight's shipment went well. Everything went okay on your end, then?"

"Oh, sure," Punk answered icily. "We're fine… just fine. We really enjoyed when your guy popped Seth in the face, too. What the fuck was that all about, Del Rio? You think you can just jerk us around like this because you've got you've got us by the balls? We're still risking our lives for you, you sick fuck!"

"Easy!" Colt snapped, squeezing his arm. "Calm the fuck down, Punk!" He knew the consequences of what could happen if they angered the boss in any way.

But Alberto merely chuckled. "Let me tell you about the evening I had," he said. "I had a wonderful dinner with a very, _very _beautiful woman. But she does have quite the mouth on her… she said some hurtful things to me, Punk. Where do you think she learned to say things like that?"

He felt a cold, firm hand seize his lungs, tightening around them like a vice. "You son of a bitch," Punk growled. "What did you do to her? _What did you fucking do to her_?"

Everyone could hear the smile behind his voice when he answered. "Let's just say she regretted every word she said, as soon as I bent her over my dining room table. I think she's sleeping it off now."

Punk couldn't hear much after that. He was barely aware of letting out a loud, painful cry, swinging his fists out wildly to strike an enemy who wasn't there. Colt and Dean quickly rushed to catch him, holding his arms back as he fought desperately against Alberto's howling laughter. He finally fell back against the wall as the line went dead, smacking his fists uselessly on the wall behind him.

The room was silent but for Punk's cries. Everyone was frozen for a seemingly endless moment, listening to their formerly fearless leader shatter before them. Even Kaitlyn had shed her bravado, curling into a ball on the edge of the couch. Finally, Colt knelt down next to him, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "Punk," he said slowly, as though speaking to a child, "she's okay."

"She's _not _okay!" Punk shouted back. "Being alive isn't the same thing as being okay! He- he _raped _her, Colt! He fucking raped my- the mother of my child, the love of my life, the… oh, fuck…" He struggled to his feet, making a mad dash to the bathroom, where he vomited painfully what felt like everything he'd ever eaten. He washed his mouth out and splashed cold water on his face after, steeling himself for what was to come. Everyone was in the same place he left them when he returned to the living room, droplets of cold water still clinging to the stubble on his cheeks.

"We're not waiting until tomorrow," Punk informed them. "We're making calls tonight."

* * *

AJ didn't know how long she was in the shower, but it felt like hours. She used up a bar and a half of soap, lathering her skin up and rubbing it raw. But no matter how many times she scrubbed and washed it all away with scalding hot water, she never felt clean.

Her skin was pink and tender by the time she finally emerged from the steamy cocoon of the bathroom; even drying herself with a soft, fluffy towel was painful. She thought she would cry again as she eased into one of the shirts and pairs of sweatpants she found in the dresser, but she found that she'd cried herself dry of tears long ago, when Hunico had finally left her alone to wash the smell and feeling of shame from her skin. She'd barely paid attention to him as he exited her room.

As she lay back on the bed now, running a hand mindlessly over her stomach, she thought back to what he'd said. At first, she had ignored his mutterings of promises that this would never happen again. What did he mean when he said he would keep her safe? Was he in contact with Punk? Were they going to rescue her somehow? Or was Hunico just another one of those selfish bastards under Alberto's thumb, working out of his own greed? Surely, he was only in this for himself.

But she had to believe there was goodness in people still. Even as her world came crashing down around her, she had to believe there was some hope and a light at the end of the tunnel.


	25. Chapter 25

It took everyone roughly half an hour to settle down from rage-inducing news they'd received from Alberto. Seth rocked Kaitlyn gently in his arms, who had been rendered a wreck, while Roman held Dean back from putting a hole in the wall. But when he was finally calm enough to do it, the first person Punk called was an old friend and contact, a man who went by the equally as odd nickname of Dolph. It was a little after one in the morning when Punk dialed his number, but he picked up the phone anyway.

"Punk?" Dolph grumbled sleepily. "What the hell, man? It's after 1 AM. I have work in the morning. What's so important that couldn't wait till the morning?"

Punk was silent for a moment, allowing Dolph to get his anger out before replying. He imagined his old friend smoothing back his trademark slick, bleach-blond hair as he often did. "I'm sorry for waking you," he began, "but I really need your help. Something bad happened." He bit his lip, sucking in a tight breath. "Something really, really bad."

All sounds of sleep were immediately banished from his voice. "What?" Dolph asked urgently. "Tell me."

"I know you quit the business a long time ago," Punk replied, "and me, Colt and the boys just tried to, but Del Rio wouldn't let us go. He let us think we were going to have a clean break, but he double-crossed us and…" He sighed. "He took my girlfriend, Dolph. He kidnapped my pregnant girlfriend."

"Oh, fuck," Dolph groaned. "You're kidding. I didn't even know you _had _a girlfriend, let alone having a kid… Jesus. I knew this would happen, sooner or later. I told you years ago, didn't I? Not to get in so deep with Del Rio, that it would bite you in the end! That's why I got out when I could! I told you!"

"I know, I know," Punk muttered. He knew he would have to suffer through some degree of lecturing before he would get Dolph to agree to what he needed. "I fucked up. It's my fault she was in danger in the first place. But he's keeping her down there as collateral while we work for him, and he's doing some…" He was silent for a moment, a terrible image flashing before his mind. He quickly shook his head; he needed to focus on what lay ahead, not agonize over what already happened. "He's doing some bad things to her. I need to her back, Dolph, and we can't do it alone."

"Fuck," Dolph growled again. "This is insane. I don't know if we can… You want to bring the whole crew down to Mexico and just storm his place, don't you? Damn it. I don't want to get back into this, Punk. You know that. I have a regular life now, and I'm enjoying it."

He'd been afraid of this. "I know you do," Punk replied hastily. "That's what I want, too. And I definitely don't deserve it… but she does, and so does my baby. I'll do anything for her, Dolph. But me and the guys, we can't do it alone. We need your help." His voice was starting to break; he couldn't help it. "I'll pay you, if that's what you want. I'll pay you anything."

"Punk, are you crying?" Dolph asked. "Damn it. Shut up, man. I'm not gonna sit here and listen to you cry like a bitch… and you don't have to pay me. Of course I'll do it."

He nearly fell off his bed as he sat up, suddenly filled with a renewed sense of hope. "You will?"

"Sure I will," Dolph assured him. "I won't leave your girl hanging… especially if she's hot. But if we're going to do this, we'll need to make a few more calls."

Punk grinned. He had to. "Are we getting everyone back together?"

He could hear the smirk in Dolph's voice when he answered. "You know we are."

hr

By the early morning, everyone they needed was assembled in Punk's living room. There was the usual team, of course- Colt, Dean, Seth, Roman, and Punk himself. But there were now three new additions to their team, all old friends who had since quit the business that was currently consuming Punk. First there was Dolph, the logistics expert. Then there was Zack Ryder, who, although having the outward appearance of a muscle bound airhead, was actually quite the accomplished hacker. Last was Evan Bourne, who had gained his 'Airborne' nickname with his knack for piloting. They would all be integral parts of the plan Punk and Colt were putting together.

"So we're just going to invade the compound?" Zack asked. "I don't know, bro. The guy's got like, an army down there. And that house is like a fucking fortress." They had been brainstorming for a few hours now. Kaitlyn had long since fled the room, unable to stand listening to their plans any longer.

"I think we need more people," Dolph agreed.

"No," Punk told them, shaking his head. "You're the only ones we can trust."

"Everyone else is in Del Rio's pocket," Seth reminded them.

"Fine," Dean snapped, jumping to his feet. "So that's what we're going to do then? The eight of us against who the fuck knows how many people who would lay down and die for this motherfucker? And what are we going to do when we get there, huh?" He glared at Punk, offering a challenge.

"That's easy," Punk replied coolly, leaning back against the couch. "We kill them. We kill them all."

* * *

_"Come on, man, pick up, pick up…" He sighed. "Oh, thank God you picked up. Listen, I-" There was a pause. "No, I haven't, I swear! I would never. They just have me watch her, that's all. But look, she can't stay here much longer. He's getting angrier with her. I don't know when it will happen, but he's going to snap sometime soon. More than he already has. You have to get her out of here. If you're planning something, and I know you are… you do it soon." He was silent again. "How do you know you can trust me? Because you know me! I'm not him. I would never do to a woman what he- damn it, I'm the only contact you have. You have no choice but to listen to me. I have all the inside information you don't."_

AJ's eyes flickered open at the slightly muffled sounds coming from behind her. She quickly rolled over, finding Hunico standing near the door. He was hunched over with his cell phone, speaking hurriedly in a hushed tone. "What's going on?" she asked, sitting up and pushing the blankets back.

He quickly turned around to face her, eyes widening. "I have to go," he muttered. "Don't call. I'll call you." He ended the call and pocketed the phone. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Sort of," she replied curiously, but that wasn't what bothered her. The fact that he was making clandestine phone calls from her room in the early hours of the morning definitely heightened her alarm. Who was he talking to? What was he planning? And why was he hiding in here?

"I just needed to make a call," he told her, as though sensing the questions on her mind. "This is the only place I can go where they won't bug me for being on the phone."

"Right," she said slowly with a nod, although she remained unconvinced. "Hunico, why can't you just tell me the truth? You don't have to hide things from me." She was determined to dig the information out of him, especially if it concerned her or her safety. She had been on edge for the entirety of the past day and night, only falling asleep out of exhaustion. But she was still terrified Alberto would come for her.

He merely smiled thinly, sitting on the edge of her bed. "All you need to know is that everything's going to be okay," he answered calmly. "I promise. I'm going to keep you safe."

_That's what Punk promised me, _she thought, the words left unspoken on her lips. _But look where I am now_. She lay back on the bed as Hunico patted her knee and left the room, leaving her alone with her own thoughts again. As much as she tried not to think about him (as it usually brought tears to her eyes), Punk drifted into her mind as always. What was he doing right now? What were Colt, Seth, Dean, and Roman up to? Had they given up and resigned themselves to working for Alberto, or were they mounting a rescue attempt of some sort? If she knew them at all, and she liked to think that she did, they were definitely scheming to come get her.

And yet… it had been weeks already. The logical, reasonable woman in her had a feeling it took longer than a few days to plan an operation on this scale, but another part of her, knowing Punk's tendency to dive into things head first, was already discouraged. Maybe he wasn't her white knight after all.


	26. Chapter 26

"A week," Punk growled with a furious shake of his head, pacing back and forth across the living room as was Dean's usual job. "I can't wait for another fucking week! She could be dead in another goddamn week!" He'd been on edge, predictably, all morning since the call.

"We have to," Colt argued. "He said security would be the most laid back while most of Del Rio's men were out dealing with the latest shipment. It's our best chance. Shit, it may be our _only _chance."

"And what if he's lying?" Dolph asked, standing up. "Can we trust him? Maybe this is all a trick."

"We don't have a choice but to trust him," Roman said. "If it's a set up, then Del Rio is going to be geared up and ready for us whether we do it tomorrow or next year. But if it's not… then we just might be able to pull this off without getting ourselves killed."

"He's right," Dean announced, which turned a few heads; he rarely conceded victory.

"Then we can use this week to get our shit together," Evan said. "I'll need a few days to get everything I need, anyway. A military helicopter, for one."

"And my laptop," Zack added excitedly. "If I'm gonna take down their systems, I need my laptop. The old one, with all the programs I need, is in storage somewhere. I need to get it back up and running."

The living room was suddenly abuzz with conversation. Punk leaned back against the wall and watched as his crew discussed the plan, talking of what they would need, when they would leave, how long it would take, extracting AJ safely… but Punk couldn't pay attention to any of it. He could barely even hear what they were saying as time went on, their voices muted and blending together. Would it even matter? Would they be able to get her back, anyway? He had no idea at this point.

* * *

"I don't know if we should do this anymore," Kaitlyn whispered that night as she lay tucked safely in Seth's warm embrace. "I don't think it's right."

Seth frowned, leaning back so he could look at her. "What do you mean?" he asked slowly.

She sighed. "The only reason I'm even still here is because AJ is being held captive in Mexico," she replied. "What's going to happen when all of this is over, for better or worse? I lost my job, my car has probably been towed from the airport by now, and my rent is due in a week and I have no idea how I'm going to pay it. My life is falling apart." She didn't have to remind him that their relationship (if that was even what it was) had only begun out of emotional anguish.

"Kait, don't say that," he begged with alarm. She was the only thing keeping him sane right now. He couldn't bear to lose her. "We'll figure something out. Somehow. I have plenty of money, you don't have to worry. I can take care of you."

"Take care of me?" she echoed, shoving away from him. "Seth, I've known you for less than a month. This is ridiculous. We haven't even really been dating. You can't just say things like that!"

He could only stare at her in dismay for a moment, searching desperately for the words that would placate her. "I'm just trying to help," he said finally, throwing up his hands.

She sighed again, rolling over to face the wall. "I know," she muttered.

* * *

The next day, Hunico convinced Alberto to let AJ wander the house a little. He argued that she would likely be much easier to deal with if she wasn't going stir-crazy locked in her room all day. Not wanting a repeat performance of the other night, Alberto readily agreed, under the condition that either Hunico or Melina would be keeping a watchful eye on her. After so many days of staring at four walls, with nothing but her own thoughts to keep her company, AJ was practically ecstatic. She was so happy, she didn't even try to question Hunico about the second secret phone call he made from her room that morning.

The first place she went was the backyard garden, walking through the rows of bushes and flowers as Hunico trailed a few yards behind her. "It's beautiful!" she exclaimed, bending to a pick up a fallen petal. Even detached from the flower, it still smelled sweet. "I've never seen anything like this."

Hunico smiled. He was just glad she wasn't retreating into herself the way she'd been doing for the past several days, either sobbing uncontrollably or remaining completely silent. "It's something," he agreed.

"Who put all this in, anyway?" she asked, turning around to face him. "I didn't really think Alberto was a… you know, garden and flowers type of guy." She swallowed hard; his name tasted bitter on her lips.

"He isn't," he admitted. "This was all his wife's planning."

"His wife?" She frowned. "I didn't know he was married." She found it hard to believe that a man who ever loved a woman the way Punk loved her would be capable of doing to her what Alberto had very nearly gone through with a few nights ago.

"Well, not anymore," he replied carefully, stepping forward to close the gap between them. Although the morning maintenance was done and they were alone in the backyard, he could never be too careful. "She left him several years ago after the birth of their first child. She…" He looked down for a moment, scuffing at the soil beneath his shoes. "Rosa was what kept him on the ground, you know? Kept him a human being. When their kid was born, she said she wanted him to have a chance outside this whole thing. So she packed up and left. He was never the same after that."

"Wow," she whispered, folding the petal between her fingertips. Suddenly, Alberto's demeanor made sense. It didn't excuse his actions by any means, but it definitely helped to explain them. Alberto's ex-wife, Rosa, had done to him what AJ threatened to do to Punk- leave with their child, to give them a better chance at a real life without the stain of drugs and crime all over it. "Does Punk know?"

Hunico glanced all around them nervously. Even this sparse amount of information felt as though he'd said too much. "Yeah. He does. Why don't we go back inside?" he suggested.

"But we've only been outside for half an hour," she protested. "Why?"

"Just come on," he grunted, grabbing her by the hand. "Just have to take it slow, okay?"

* * *

"All right," Dolph announced, hanging up the white board. It held a drawing of the floor plan of Alberto's compound, all three stories plus the basement. "This layout here is what we've been given. Seeing as I've never been there, I need confirmation that these are for real. Punk?"

There was no answer from the tattooed man who leaned against the wall.

"Punk?" Dolph prompted again.

Punk stared at them all for a long, poignant moment. All eyes were on him- Colt, Dolph, Evan, Zack, Dean, Seth and Roman. As skilled as they were at their respective places in their crew, they needed him at the helm. They were all waiting for him, their leader, to pull himself together and guide them toward their goal- getting rid of Alberto, and getting AJ back.

"Time to get your head in the game," Dean said lightly.

Finally, Punk pushed himself off the wall, shaking his head quickly. Dean was right. He needed to clear his mind and get his head back in the game. Now was not the time for regrets, to kick himself and scold himself for getting AJ wrapped up in his mess of a life. He would have plenty of time later, when she was safe back by his side again, to curse his own stupid decisions.

"Everything looks the way I remember it," Punk said, after studying the floor plan for a moment. He picked up a marker. "He said she was here, right?" He tapped a room on the picture of the second floor, and Dolph nodded. "All right." He drew an 'x' over the room where they believed AJ was being held. "If she's over here, then when we enter the property, we should come in from this side."

The whole gang paid strict attention as Punk laid out his plan. He had to admit to himself, a little shamefully, that it felt good to be planning operations like this again. It kept his mind busy, away from thoughts of his princess who was trapped in a tower away from his reach.


	27. Chapter 27

"What are you out here for?"

Punk blinked slowly, glancing behind him to see the source of the question. "Just thinking," he replied, turning back to stare up at the darkened sky. He was leaning against the tree in his backyard, enjoying the silence around him on their last night before departing for Mexico.

"Well, stop that shit," Dean advised, taking up residence next to him on the thick, solid wooden trunk behind them. "You go all silent psycho on us when you start thinking."

The two men were quiet for a little while, listening to the whistle of the breeze as it rustled through the trees. Punk wished it would give him answers, or at least quiet the thoughts running through his mind. But he knew he had to get this off his chest, before it was too late. "Hey, Dean," he said suddenly.

"Yeah?" Dean asked, still staring straight ahead.

"I need you to promise me something."

This got Dean's attention. He turned his head to look at his friend, studying him curiously. "Sure, man," he replied, folding his arms. "Of course. Anything. What's up?"

Punk closed his eyes for a moment; this would be difficult for him to say, but he had to get it out, before it was too late and they shipped out. "We're leaving early in the morning," he said, "and it's possible not all of us will make it back in one piece. So if something happens to me, I want you to promise that you're going to take care of her for me."

"Aw, come on," Dean muttered, shaking his head. "That's not going to happen, Punk. You're the sharpest out of all of us. You'll- you'll be fine." He didn't know who he was trying to convince- himself, or Punk. But even thinking about the possibility of losing one of the men who saved him was too terrifying of a prospect for him to consider right now.

"But you can't know that for sure," Punk insisted. "Things can happen. I can't control everything that's happening around me. I could get hit by a stray bullet." He swallowed. "So I need you to promise."

Dean pushed himself off the tree, taking up his usual coping method of pacing. "And why me?" he asked, shaking his head uncertainly. "Why not Colt? You've known him longer than you've known me. He's your best buddy. Why not ask him to take care of your girl, huh?" His shoulders were heaving.

"Because," Punk answered firmly, moving to stand in front of him and halt his progress, "Colt's not fierce like you. You're the only one of us who has… that fire… that I have." He stood less than a foot away from Dean, mossy green eyes boring into icy blue ones. "I trust Colt with my life. He's like a brother to me. But you… you can do what he can't. You can do what _I _can't." He placed his hands on Dean's shoulders, squeezing them firmly. "So you'll take care of her."

"If you can't," Dean corrected, biting his lip.

"If I can't," Punk agreed. "Promise me. Promise me you'll take care of AJ."

"I'll take care of AJ," he promised, his voice breaking, as Punk pulled him in for a hug.

They remained in the backyard together for only another moment. It wasn't long before Dean broke away from their embrace. He took off back toward the house, head ducked low as he walked. Neither of them made mention of the fact that Dean had been silently crying.

* * *

"Shhh," Seth whispered, rubbing her back gently. "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay."

"But you're leaving in the morning," Kaitlyn whispered back. "What if you don't come back?"

He laughed. "Oh, now you're worried about me," he teased. "Wasn't it only a few nights ago you were saying we shouldn't do this anymore? That it was wrong!"

"Hey, shut up!" she snapped, pulling back to smack his shoulder roughly. "Just because I'm not sure doesn't mean I don't care about you, you jackass." She frowned, sitting up to turn away from him.

"You care?" He smiled, in spite of himself. He knew he was poking at some raw nerves, but he had to know. Just in case he never came back. "Well, that's good to hear. I care about you, too."

She sighed, pressing her index fingers to her temples. "Seth, please," she begged. "I can't do this right now. I just… can't we just have a normal night together? Do we really have to talk about this?"

"Yes, we do," he urged. "Kait, I know you've been unsure about everything, and you think it's wrong, or too soon, or _something_, but come on! Don't lie to me. Don't pretend you don't feel what I feel. Who cares how crazily this started? I don't. I just care about you." He cupped her cheek.

Her eyes were filled with tears. "But if I admit it, and then you don't come back from Mexico, then I'll have nothing!" she cried. "I already lost my job, I'm going to lose my apartment, and I'm probably more than halfway to losing my mind. I can't lose you, too."

"Then just fucking say it!" he all but demanded. He knew exactly what losing his mind felt like. But she was all that was bringing him back from the brink, and he needed to hear her say what she had been trying to keep from herself all along. He knew it had to be true. "Come on, baby. Please? Just-"

She cut him off abruptly with a fierce kiss. He groaned against her lips, eager to respond as she threw her arms around his neck. But he knew what she was doing, and he wasn't falling for it. "Hey, hey," he said quickly, reluctantly pulling himself back. "You can't just fuck me into forgetting this conversation."

"Yes I can," she argued, shoving him back onto the bed. She peppered his tanned, bare torso with kisses, reaching his mouth again to silence his protesting lips with her own. He struggled at first as she straddled him, removing her shirt and bra before resuming her assault on his neck. Even though it felt so good, he just couldn't do this… but as one of her hands slid into his shorts and took hold of him, he finally gave in. He hissed in pleasure as she stroked him over and over again; he barely even noticed her raising her hips so she could pull her pants down.

Moments later, he was sweating. He hadn't previously known it was possible to sweat desire, but she was working it out of him, slowly but surely. Biting his lip with a frustrated growl, he pushed her off his lap and rolled over to reach the dresser. He returned to her without shorts and bearing protection, absolutely hungry for her as he pushed her onto her back. She yelped into his shoulder as he entered her, his body furiously pumping against hers.

"Harder," she pleaded desperately. He responded to her easily, rotating his hips to drive into her faster and deeper as her sweet skin smacked hard against his. Her body was completely numb, drugged into pleasure by the time his hips gave a final, insistent shudder.

"I love you," he whispered as he collapsed against her. "Please… please tell me you love me, too."

"I love you," she admitted finally.

* * *

The next morning, Punk awoke at 4 AM. He showered quickly, dressing in regular clothing. His gear was in the duffel bag pre-packed next to his bed, which he grabbed immediately on his way out the door. Seth was already waiting for him, where he was saying a tearful goodbye to Kaitlyn.

"Hey," Punk said lightly. "I don't mean to interrupt, but… we need to meet the others at the airstrip."

"Right," Seth muttered with a nod. "I'll, uh, go start the car." He turned back to her, placing his hand gently on her cheek. "I love you, okay? I'll be back soon."

"I love you, too," she whispered back, kissing him one last time before he left the house. She turned to look at Punk, who stood awkwardly in the doorway. "So I guess you're leaving now, huh?"

"Yeah," Punk muttered with a nod. "And I'm bringing her back. No matter what, I will do absolutely anything to bring her back here safely. I promise you that." He smirked. "And when that happens, you can yell at me all you want for being a dick. You can even hit me in the face if you want."

She smiled back. "And you'll bring Seth back, too?" she asked hopefully.

"Of course," he assured him. "But you have to do something for me. Make sure you take care of these little bastards while we're gone." As though on cue, Clark scrambled up to him, pawing eagerly at his leg. Punk knew why- he wanted to play, and Punk had precious little time to spend with the kitten who had been so instrumental in starting his relationship with AJ. Nacho wasn't far behind him, clambering off the couch and running up to join them at the door.

"Sure, yeah, I'll take care of them," she promised.

"Good." He reached into his pocket for his keys, tossing them her way. "See you in a few days."

* * *

It was still dark by the time everyone reached the airstrip, where they would be taking a small plane that Evan owned down to Texas. There, they would take a military grade helicopter he'd managed to obtain from an old contact over the border to Mexico. No commercial flights would be used; they couldn't be questioned, and they had far too many guns to transport.

"Ready to go?" Dolph asked as Evan let down the door for everyone to board. "This is it. No turning back, once we get on this plane and take off."

"Are you kidding me?" Dean asked, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Hell fucking yeah. I'm so ready."

"Let's do it," Roman announced. "We're getting her back."

"And we're taking all of those fuckers down, right?" Seth asked.

"You know it!" Zack assured him excitedly.

Punk boarded the plane in silence. He clapped Evan on the shoulder before moving to sit down, glancing around at all his friends. "I can't thank you all enough for this," he said finally.

Roman just shook his head. "Thank us when we get back," he replied.

"All right, everyone shut your damn mouths and buckle up," Evan sounded over the PA system. "We're about to take off. Next stop: Texas!"


	28. Chapter 28

With her ventures outside of her room becoming more common, AJ was a little less fearful of her surroundings. She enjoyed her walks through the garden (as much as she could, knowing she wasn't really free), but she was quickly noticing Hunico's behavior becoming more and more peculiar around her. His hushed phone calls continued, and they were more frequent, too. At first, she accepted his vague explanations, but she soon grew worried that these phone calls were about her.

"I know you're hiding something from me," she told him harshly the next morning, when she awoke to find him yet again in the corner of her room, ducked over his phone.

He shoved his phone in his pocket and turned to her with a frustrated sigh. "Let it go, mami," he pleaded, rubbing his forehead. "Please. It's not important, okay?"

"It _is_!" she snapped, pushing back the blankets and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "It's clearly important enough for you to be hiding these calls from Alberto and Ricardo and everyone else! I am _not _just _letting it go_, Hunico." She stood up, walking toward him slowly. She was tired of being scared, have no knowledge of what was going on, and being unable to control anything around her. "It's about me, isn't it? I know it is! You would have told me already if it wasn't!"

She expected him to make excuses again, to lie, or even to storm out of the room in a huff. But what he did instead surprised her. "I can't tell you yet," he replied. "But I will soon, I promise. Everything will become clear very soon. Tonight, actually. What time is it?" He glanced over her shoulder to look at the clock on the bedside table. It was shortly after 9:30 AM. "In about 12 hours, you'll know."

"But…" She sighed, dismayed. She'd gotten a response, all right, but it left her with more questions than answers. "But you promise you'll tell me then, right? You promise?"

He nodded, his gaze never breaking from hers. "I promise," he said.

"All right," she replied with another sigh, sitting back on the bed. She wasn't going to push him any further, but she was still left with the same feeling of helplessness and fear she was before.

"Cheer up," he offered, sitting down next to her and giving her knee a light squeeze. "Everything's going to make sense tonight." _And tomorrow, _he thought, _if everything goes right, you'll be home. _But he couldn't tell her that yet, and he could tell from her expression that her mind still wasn't at ease. "So what do you want, anyway?" She frowned at him in confusion. "Boy or girl, I mean."

"Oh!" She smiled, her hand instinctively making its way toward the bump on her stomach. "I'm not sure, really. Punk wants a boy, of course… he was talking about decorating the room in a Chicago Cubs theme." She chuckled. "But I don't know if I can handle another Punk running around."

He smiled back at her. "Punk's a good guy, you know," he said. "Real good guy. I don't think the idea of having another one of him is so bad, you know? The world needs more guys like him."

"Please," she muttered, laughing harshly. "Not according to Alberto. I'm sure you heard what he told me about Punk. He's killed teenage boys, right? And old women? And he's burned down houses? Some good guy." She blinked hard, trying to prevent the tears she could already feel forming.

"Hey," he said sternly, grabbing her lightly by the shoulders and forcing her to face him. "He's done bad things, yeah. We've all done shit we aren't proud of. But I've been doing this my whole life, baby girl. My papa worked for Del Rio's family before I was even born. I didn't have a choice. And I've met a lot of bad guys... your Punk, he isn't one of them. This big bad business isn't in his heart, and I don't think it's with the rest of the boys he's got, either."

She was silent throughout his explanation, trying so desperately to believe what he was telling her. "And what about you?" she whispered, biting her lip. "You've been doing this your whole life, and you're not a bad guy. You haven't hit me. You haven't tried to rape me. You aren't even mean to me! What does all of that mean, then? Are all of you secretly good guys beneath the surface?" She laughed.

"Me? Hell no." He shook his head. "I'm a bad boy. I'm just a lackey on the chain, but I'm no good."

"Then why have you treated me so well?" she demanded.

He could tell he was trying to egg her on. Why was she trying so hard to get him to burst? Did she want him to strike her, scream at her? Regardless, he wasn't going to fall for it. He just stood up, smiling down at her. "Because maybe if I can do one good thing, it will all have been worth it." He left her stunned after that, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

* * *

"Let's go over this one more time," Colt said, readjusting his earpiece as he hopped out of the helicopter. His boots crunched on the dry, dying grass of the field they had been waiting in for the past few hours. Ever the perfectionist, he needed to be absolutely sure everything would go precisely as planned. "We reach the outer fence at approximately 9:30 PM, when the amount of security is at its weakest point." Then he pointed at Zack. "Go."

"As soon we get there, I shut down security in phases," Zack answered automatically. "I kill the power to the fence first." He grinned; it was clear the eager young hacker was excited to begin the operation.

"When the power's out to the fence, we hop over," Seth continued. "We make our way to the edge of the house and take cover at the hedges on the southwest corner. Then I signal Zack."

"I kill the cameras on the back of the property," Zack said.

"We take out everyone in view and start to scale the back wall," Roman said. "And then-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Dean cut in impatiently. "We reach the roof, go in through the hatch as Zack kills the power to everything, go down one flight of stairs, turn the corner and go down the hallway to the room on the end, bust down the door, grab the girl, and get the fuck out. Are we done here?"

"No," Punk piped up finally, standing up. "You forgot the part where we kill everyone in our path, including Del Rio." He stared around at all of them as he zipped up his tactical vest; it was already getting dark. "I'm not stopping until I get to look that motherfucker in the eye and kill him."

"Punk," Dolph said slowly, "come on. I know Del Rio's a dick and you want to waste him, but you know that's not the priority. The priority is getting AJ and getting out."

"I know that!" Punk snapped. "You think I don't know that? Of course I know that. But if we don't take him out, he'll come back from this, and he won't take hostages when he does. He'll just kill everyone. I'm not about to let that happen. This is _never _happening again, do you understand?" He was silent for a moment, taking his group's hardened stares back at him as agreement. Then he looked at Evan. "Make sure you're ready with the chopper when we give the signal."

Evan nodded quickly, flicking his cigarette away. "Of course," he said. "You got it, man."

Punk circled around the helicopter to lean against the open door. He had been deep in thought during his two flights of the day, first to Texas, and then over the border to Mexico in Evan's helicopter. He was truly grateful for everyone's involvement- Colt, Dean, Seth, Roman, Dolph, Zack, and Evan. It took a lot out of them. But he just couldn't bring himself to banter with them. There was too much on his mind. He had to keep his head in the game, constantly reminding himself of the most important thing- getting AJ back. But there was more than that. He had to go after Del Rio, too. He had to get the bastard in his clutches, not only for the revenge he so desperately craved, but to ensure everyone's safety, as well.

He wasn't going to let it happen. Alberto would never get his hands on anyone Punk loved ever again.

* * *

"What time is it?" Punk muttered anxiously.

"Five minutes since the last time you asked me," Colt replied calmly.

"And that would make it?" Punk demanded.

"Dude, it's 9:25!" Dean snapped. "Fuck! Calm down. You can wait five more minutes." He shook his head and jammed a full clip into his rifle, a little more roughly than he meant to.

Seth just shook his head at them. Having his own person at home to love, he understood easily now what Dean did not- that those five minutes could seem like an eternity if they were what were standing between him and his girl. He couldn't even imagine what it would be like if he'd been waiting to storm the mansion to rescue Kaitlyn. The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

"Everybody make your final preparations!" Dolph called as he circled around the helicopter, putting a handgun in the holster on his hip. "We move out in five, people."

Punk finally pulled himself into a standing position, putting a knife in his boot before securing the rest of his weapons. "You ready to do it?" he asked Zack, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

The spiky-haired member of their gang nodded, not looking up from his computer. He'd been sitting before his laptop for the past few hours. "I'm into their security system," Zack answered. "It was tough to crack, but I've got it. Just waiting for the signal."

"All right," Punk said with a nod. He turned to the rest of them. The whole group waited with weapons at the ready, even Colt, who rarely joined them on gun-toting adventures. Even he was ready to lay down his life for this cause. Someday, he would find a way to repay these men for their generosity.

"We take no prisoners," Dolph reminded them. "They took one of our own, so we're taking _all _of theirs that we can get our hands on. No mercy!" He glanced over at Punk. "It's your show, boss."

_Boss_. Punk was the boss, now. Not Del Rio. Him. He looked down at his watch, then back at the boys. "9:30 on the nose," he reported. "Let's move out!"

* * *

"Okay," AJ said, standing up. "It's 9:40 already. You promised you would tell me what was going at 9:30, Hunico. Now tell me!" He merely smiled at her for a moment, tapping his foot as he waited. She was about to open her mouth to yell at him, when suddenly the lights went out. She immediately stood up, looking around the room fearfully. As she reached the window, she looked over the darkened backyard to see the silhouettes of the guards scattering frantically. "Hunico? What's happening?"

He smiled again. "I think you know."


	29. Chapter 29

**_10 minutes earlier_**

"We've reached the fence," Seth reported, pressing his earpiece to radio Zack. "Hit it."

"Copy that," Zack replied. "Fence is out… now."

Punk immediately began climbing. It wasn't hard- the fence was chain-link, and he had an entire childhood of troublemaking behind him as experience. He dropped down on the other side at the same time as the others, and they quickly made their way over the hill. As they drew nearer to the mansion they dropped low, crawling on their elbows to reach the mass of hedges that would shield them from the guards patrolling the back of the property. There were only two, as the cameras covered the rest of the blind spots. His hand snaked down to the knife hidden in his boot; they would have to be silent.

"We're right at the back," Seth hissed. "Phase two."

"Copy that," came Zack's voice instantly. "Rear cameras are dead."

They sprang up from the bushes just as the guards circled back around the wall. Punk came up behind one, easily drawing his knife across the man's neck. He gagged blood, trying to cry out, but Punk quickly clamped a hand over his mouth and lowered his body down. The guard bled out moments later, and Punk looked up to see Dean taking out the other guard in a similar fashion.

"Let's get to the roof," Dean said.

They didn't need lines or other gear to scale the back wall of the mansion, as Punk had prepared for just in case. The brickwork allowed for perfect hand and footholds all the way up. They steadfastly avoided the windows as they progressed, clambering over the side and making it to the roof a few moments later. Dolph beat them all there, having quickly scrambled ahead to ambush the rooftop sniper. He jumped on the sniper's back, cracking his neck in a swift motion.

"All right," Punk said quietly as the rest of them converged on the roof. "Is everyone ready?"

"Ready when you are," Roman told him.

Punk crouched next to the rooftop access hatch, wrapping his hand around the handle. This was it. Once they descended into the mansion, all hell was going to break loose. And he was ready for it. "Do it."

Seth pressed his earpiece. "Pull the plug, Zack," he ordered.

"Copy," Zack replied. "Total blackout in three… two… one."

* * *

AJ was just about to yell at Hunico again for his vagueness when the sound of gunfire cut her off. "Oh my god," she gasped, standing up immediately. "They're here, aren't they? They're here to get me!" Her heart was pounding so hard, she could hear it throb in her ears. Somehow, she didn't even need Hunico's confirmation. She was sure she already knew the truth.

"Yeah, but I'm sure all of those bullets aren't coming from them," he answered quickly, rushing to grab her. "Come on. Get down." He crouched, pulling her down with him and leading her into the bathroom. "Stay here, okay? I'm gonna guard the door. I told them where your room is. They'll be here soon."

She nodded quickly and ducked down in the bathtub, glancing up frequently to find Hunico standing protectively in the doorway. As the thunderous noise grew nearer, she found she could barely contain her excitement despite the fact that she winced at every gunshot. They couldn't be too far away now. They were almost here, Punk was almost here, to rescue her and finally bring her home…

There was a loud crash as the door was kicked open. AJ moved to stand, sure it was the boys, but Hunico brashly signaled for her to stay put. "Give me the girl!" came a frenzied shout. "Boss wants her dead!"

"Back off, Ricardo," Hunico growled. "She's going home."

"Are you crazy?" Ricardo cried. "You're going to defy the boss like that?"

They broke into hurried Spanish, too fast for AJ to follow. But she could tell the conversation wasn't going well- Hunico's posture was tensing further with each passing word. Finally, he drew his gun. She shrieked and covered her ears as gunfire erupted in the room, and she could only watch helplessly as her protector crumpled to the floor. "No!" she cried, rushing to his aid.

He was still alive- barely. Blood was rapidly spreading across his chest from the bullet wound. As she pulled him into his lap, she could see around the doorway that Ricardo had been taken out in the crossfire. He lay dead on the floor, eyes still open.

"You have to go," he wheezed painfully. "When Ricardo doesn't… come back, there will… be more."

"No, I can't just leave you here," she sobbed. "Everything's going to be okay. When Punk gets here, we'll take you back with us, and we'll get you to a hospital… come on, we need to keep pressure on the wound!" She grabbed a fallen hand towel from behind her, balling it up and pressing it hard against the wound. She winced as he groaned. "Just hold on, please!"

"A-April…" he said shakily, reaching up to cup her cheek, "there's no… no hope for me. Go, mami. Go before… before he comes…" He coughed, closing his eyes for a moment. He was paling, fast.

"No!" she snapped. "You-"

"If you don't go," he interrupted sternly, "this won't… have been worth it. Go, baby girl." His other hand moved to her stomach, patting it lightly. "Both of you… get out of here." He struggled to sit up, planting a kiss on her forehead. "Get up. Go. And tell him… tell him thanks." He fell back again, sliding out of her lap and easing onto the blood-soaked floor beneath them.

She was almost completely numb as she stood, backing away from the rapidly fading man who was about to give his life for her. What made her so special? Why, after finally doing good in his life-and for her!-was it all going to end for him so soon? He didn't deserve this death, here in this room with only her poor sobbing self for comfort. But he was right. If she was recaptured, his sacrifice would have been for nothing. "Thank you," she whispered. She cast one last sad look at him before running out the door, her hands and clothes covered in his blood.

She turned into the next hallway and stopped running about halfway down the corridor, wrought with confusion. She seemed to be alone on this side of the house, but where was she supposed to go now? Up the nearest staircase or down both sounded like bad ideas- she could hear rapid gunfire from either direction. And going back to her room wasn't an option, either. Backing against the wall hopelessly, she started to cry again, sure now that Hunico's sacrifice was in vain. But as she sank to her knees, head in her hands, she heard a voice from somewhere nearby that made her heart sing.

"Fuck, she's not here!" Punk yelled angrily. "He's dead and she's not here!"

"Punk!" she cried, standing up. "Punk, I'm here!" She almost couldn't believe it- it was _his _voice.

"Maybe she was-" she heard Seth begin. "Wait, did you hear that?"

"Seth, it's me!" she called. "Where are you? Seth! Punk! _I'm here_!"

There was a rush of footsteps, but she couldn't tell from what direction they were coming from. She was left to merely stand frantically at the end of the hallway, head whipping back and forth as the footsteps drew closer. They were so close, now! In a few minutes, this would all be over.

"AJ!" Punk shouted as he, Seth, and a blonde man she didn't recognize rounded the corner at the far end of the hall. She couldn't help but let out a gasp as they started towards her- she could still see them through the darkness, dressed in all black, with bulletproof vests, gloves, guns, radios, some spattered with blood… she'd never seen them like this before. But it didn't matter it was Punk. It felt like it had been years since she last saw him, when it had really only been weeks. Had there not been so much adrenaline in her system, she was sure she would have collapsed. She pushed herself off the wall, rushing to meet them, only to feel a sharp pain in the back of her head.

"Ow!" she shrieked as someone yanked her hair from behind, pulling her back. "Punk, _help_!"

* * *

"No!" Punk yelled, running down the hall. Over AJ's head he could see that Alberto was behind her, having grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to him. He stopped dead his tracks as he saw his former boss, wide-eyed and crazed, pulling a gun from his waistband and jamming it to AJ's temple.

"Come on," Alberto growled at her. "You're coming with me!"

"Let her go!" Punk demanded, but they had already disappeared around the corner and down the stairs. He looked frantically at Dolph and Seth. "Come on, we have to go after them!" They tore down the hallway after the pair, Dolph nearly slipping as they made their way to the stairs.

"Punk?" Dean chimed in on the radio. "Punk! What the fuck happened?"

"Found AJ, but Del Rio got her and they're heading down to the first level," Punk replied quickly. "I don't know where from there. Where are you guys?" Dean, Colt, and Roman had split off from them several minutes ago to widen their search and cover more ground.

"We're-" Dean began, but there was he was cut off by the sound of bullets, and then static.

"Dean?" Punk demanded as they hit the ground floor. "Dean! Fuck, he's not answering."

"We'll meet up later," Dolph assured him. "Come on, we have to find AJ and Del Rio."

It didn't take them long. They burst through the front hall and out onto the porch, where Alberto stood in the middle of the terrace. He held a terrified, blood-stained AJ back against his chest, his gun pointed threateningly at her temple. The sight sent a shock down Punk's spine- once again, he'd failed to protect her and she was at the mercy of one of the most dangerous men on the planet. "Punk, help!" AJ begged, pulling desperately at Alberto's arm.

"Shut the fuck up!" Alberto snapped, jabbing her with the gun.

"Just let her go!" Punk ordered, pointing his rifle at the drug lord.

"You think you're in the position to be giving _me _orders?" Alberto yelled. "You break into _my _house, kill _my _men, and you think I'm just going to give her back?" He threw back his head, letting out a cackle. "You're done, Punk. You, all of your little boys and your girl are _done_! Now drop your guns! Kick them away!" They all had no choice but to comply. Their weapons clattered uselessly to the ground.

"Punk!" Colt called as he and Roman came around the side of the house. Their guns were raised high as they charged over, but they immediately skidded to a halt as the scene before them came clear. Alberto signaled for ditch their weapons, as well. Their guns were all now in a pile several yards away.

"Not so fast," Alberto hissed. "I'm in control now, you motherfuckers. How _dare _you cross me! How dare you think that you could possibly conquer all that I've built! To think that you would even try! But no, I've still got all the power. I've still got this precious little thing you all love so much." He smacked AJ again; she cried out in pain, and Punk could only bite his lip and force himself to stay still. Every cell in his body begged to lunge at them and take the bastard down but he couldn't, he was stuck here watching, completely helpless as his girlfriend was abused in front of him yet again. "I think we're going to take a trip somewhere special. Don't worry, we'll have a lot of fun." He grinned wickedly as he began to step back slowly. "Let's go, April. The first thing we have to do is get rid of this ba-"

It happened fast, almost too fast for Punk to comprehend. Before anyone realized what was happening, Dean was on Alberto's back, arms tight around his neck as he wrestled for the gun. The two men quickly fell back and Alberto had no choice but to release AJ, who went flying forward. "The gun!" Dean shouted as he finally kicked it out of Alberto's hands. "Get it!"

Punk wasted no time. He scrambled for it, diving to the tiled floor to collect it just as Alberto broke free of Dean's hold and shoved him away, quickly getting to his feet. "Funny," Punk said casually as he raised Alberto's gun, aiming it straight ahead. "Looks like _I'm _in control, now. I've been waiting a long time for this moment, Del Rio. You were dead the second the thought crossed your mind to hurt my girl."

"Punk, we can-" Alberto started to beg.

He never spoke another word, because Punk refused to let him. With a single bullet he ended all the pain his former boss had caused, watching with a sick sense of joy as blood poured down from the gaping wound in Alberto's forehead. His body, instantly lifeless, collapsed. The back porch was silent for a long, agonizing moment as Punk stared down at his fallen boss, eyes narrowed as he was unable to shake himself from this trance. But when he felt the weight of another person thrown against him, he instantly broke free and looked down. "AJ?" he whispered.

"Oh, Phil," she sobbed, locking her arms around him. "You're really here!"

"I'm here," he assured her quietly, raising his arms to lock her protectively in his embrace. He just wanted time to stop as he held her, silent and shameless tears slipping down his cheeks as he tipped her chin up to kiss her. He had sorely missed this sweet taste, the beautiful girl he loved. She clung to him even more tightly, arms locked around his neck as though she were determined to never let him go.

"Is it over?" she whispered.

"It's over," he promised, kissing the top of her head.


	30. Chapter 30

**Author's note: Warning, incoming tearjerker!**

* * *

Seth tapped his earpiece. "Bring it in, Evan," he said. "We're done here."

"Copy that," Evan replied. "Be there in a few. I'll land in the backyard."

Dolph was busy collecting his handgun and his rifle from the discarded pile. "How did you pull that off, anyway?" he asked Dean, who was sitting alone on the steps.

"I got separated from Colt and Roman at the front of the house," Dean explained. "We were ambushed, and I was pinned down by a couple of guys. Look, long story short, I had to go around and ended up without a gun. I had to get creative, okay? So I jumped on him. It's not that big of a deal."

"It _is _a big deal," AJ argued, turning in Punk's embrace so she could see Dean. "You saved my life." She'd managed to calm down a little in the short time following Alberto's grisly death; being back in Punk's arms again had that effect on her. She looked back up at him again, eyes still glittering with tears as he smiled down at her. Sighing softly with relief, she leaned her head against his chest. She remained there for a moment with her eyes closed, blissfully peaceful, until she felt his arms shift around her. She frowned as she opened her eyes, but it quickly turned into a smile as she saw him take a knee. He lifted her blood-stained shirt just enough to get to her rounding stomach.

"I have my babies back," he muttered, pressing a kiss to her skin.

"Time to go," Roman announced as he glanced up, spotting Evan's helicopter coming over the mansion.

"Disgusting," Dean spat.

"Yeah, do that later, would you?" Colt teased.

"Move out of the way," Evan radioed down to them. "I need some landing clearance."

The group began to spread out to give the helicopter a wide berth, but everyone froze as Zack's frantic voice sounded off through their radios. "There's more!" he cried from where he sat in the helicopter, huddled over his laptop. "I turned the power and the cameras back on to check out the property, and there's more coming through the front entrance! A van just pulled up and there's another on the way!"

"You're fucking kidding!" Dolph snapped. "How many?"

"_Too _many! Fully armed! Just hurry up!"

Punk felt a lightning grip on his heart; this couldn't possibly be happening again, could it? There was no way they had the resources to defend against an assault of this magnitude while being pinned down without cover like this. But there was no time for disbelief. They had to act fast. "No time for a landing," he said quickly, tapping his headset rapidly as the others scrambled around him to collect their guns. "Lower the rope ladder, Zack, now!"

"Punk?" AJ asked, glancing around at the rest of the group. She could already tell by their behavior that something was happening- and it wasn't good. She swallowed hard, on the edge of panic once again. "What's going on? What's happening? _Punk_!" She smacked his chest when he didn't answer.

"You're going to be okay," he promised, framing her face between his hands. He would die before letting anything happen to her again. "No matter what, you're going to be okay. I love you." The rope ladder dropped down a few feet from them. He rushed over, pulling her with her. "Climb!"

"But I-" she began, a sob rising in her throat as the deafening sound of the helicopter blades drowned out the sound of approaching footsteps from the house.

"_Climb_!" he snapped, holding it steady so it wouldn't shift or tangle.

She bit her lip and turned to the ladder, scrambling up with some difficulty. A spiky-haired man who she could only assume was Zack extended a hand to her as she reached the top, pulling her up into the wobbling aircraft. "What's happening?" she cried over the roar of the blades.

"Ambush!" Zack called back. "He must have made a call for reinforcements when we dropped in. Now move over!" When she didn't respond, too dumbfounded to even move, he grasped her by the shoulders and shuffled her away from the door.

"All right," Punk said loudly, "let's go! Colt, you're next! Then Dolph!"

The rest of the group quickly followed suit, ascending the shaky rope ladder as quickly as they could. But they weren't fast enough. As Seth scrambled up after Dolph, Alberto's tangent of extra men began pouring through the back door. Seth barely made it into the helicopter as they began firing.

"Hurry the fuck up!" Evan ordered as they came under fire. He brought the craft a little higher to get it out of view from under the porch's overhang. Roman fired back as he reached the ladder (which now took a slight jump to reach), taking out two instantly before he started climbing. Punk swayed as he dodged, nearly unsteadying Roman and causing him to plunge straight to the ground. But the long-haired man made it, barely, sliding in with Seth and Dolph's help.

"Come on, Dean!" Punk yelled as he took down one more before the man could dive for cover behind a pillar. "Go!" He struggled again to hold the ladder steady as the last man fired on them.

"No, you first!" Dean said as he ducked, leaving room for Punk to kill their attacker.

"Argue later!" Zack yelled down. "Second wave coming!"

"Dean, just fucking go," Punk growled. "We don't have time for this!"

"You told me to take care of her!" Dean shouted back. "I'm taking care of her by making sure _you _make it back okay. Now climb the goddamn ladder!"

Before Punk could open his mouth again, there was another hail of bullets; they both dropped. "Go!" he yelled. "You're not armed! Just go!"

Dean let out a frustrated growl, but he did as ordered. He hopped to his feet as Punk rolled over to steady the ladder again, and started to climb. He suddenly shouted angrily; a bullet grazed had grazed his thigh. His legs began to buckle, and he began to slip. Dolph and Roman reached for him, grabbing him by the arms and yanking him up just as his feet slid off the rungs.

"Now you!" Dolph called, reaching out at Punk.

Punk's eyes narrowed, determined. This may have been Alberto's last hope, arrived too late, but he wasn't going to let them win by any means. But the remaining men-and he counted at least five-were firing heavily. They couldn't strike him from his low position, but as soon as he moved they would have his body in full view. And soon, they would likely move out and be able to fire on the helicopter, too. He had to make a move, and it had to be now.

As he lay on the tile floor in despair, a thought occurred to him. He wasn't sure if he had one in his vest, as he rarely had the opportunity to use them, but perhaps… _yes_! He nearly sang aloud with joy as he withdrew his hand from his vest pocket. "Get ready," he called as he held down on his earpiece. "I'm about to pull the pin on a grenade. When I throw it, I'm gonna jump up and hang onto the ladder, so you need to get the fuck out of here, got it?"

"Copy!" Evan yelled. "Do it!"

Punk knew he had to do it quickly; there was no more time to waste. He jumped to his feet as fast as he could, his thumb hooked through the pin… but he wasn't fast enough. He plucked the pin out, and just as he raised his hand to lob the grenade in the direction of the house, he suddenly found the ground coming up to meet him. There was a searing, white-hot pain somewhere on his body… his neck, maybe. Or his head. He couldn't quite tell, as everything around him was swimming out of focus. He could feel whatever he had in his hand-what was it? Suddenly he couldn't remember-roll out of his now useless grasp. He kicked at it frantically. "April," he muttered weakly, his head rolling to the side. It was the last word to leave his mouth before everything went black.

* * *

"What's happening?" AJ shrieked, shaking Zack's arm frantically. She tried desperately to lean over the edge, but she couldn't see far enough for Punk to come into view. All she knew was that he wasn't in the helicopter, and he wasn't coming up the ladder. What was taking him so long? "_What's happening_?"

"Oh, fuck!" Dean cried, leaning out of the door as he grasped at the wound on his leg. "He's down!"

"What?" Colt snapped. "No! Oh, fuck, he's right, he's down! Punk! Get up! _Get up_!"

There was no answer, as the agonizing seconds ticked by. "We have to go!" Evan yelled frantically. "He pulled the pin! Close the door already!"

They had no choice. Colt leaned over Dean and slid the door shut. "No!" AJ cried, slapping Colt's shoulder angrily as the helicopter gained altitude. "We can't just leave him! We have to go back! We have to go back, god damn it!" She suddenly felt incredibly nauseas again.

"We can't!" Dolph snapped. "He pulled the grenade pin, but he was shot in the head before-"

She couldn't hear anything after that, as the eardrum-shattering explosion that followed cut everyone off. But she wasn't sure she would have been able to hear him anyway, as there was only one word at the forefront of her mind now- _shot. _He was lying down there, somewhere, bleeding from a bullet wound and she had no way to save him, now that the mansion had gone up in flames… "No," she sobbed listlessly as the helicopter rose over the hills. "He's… he's not… we have to go back! Do you hear me? _We have to go back_! Are you listening to me?" She stood up angrily, stumbling slightly as she attempted to make her way toward Evan's chair. "We have to turn around!"

"AJ," Colt said as quietly as he could while still being heard over the noise around them, "we can't go back. It's…" He bit down hard on his lower lip for a moment. "It's too late."

"It's _not _too late!" she shrieked. "Don't _ever _say that!" Distraught, she reared back to slap him, but someone quickly caught her arm and whirled her around to face him.

"He's dead, damn it!" Dean yelled at her. "Punk is _dead_! If the bullet to the head didn't kill him, then the grenade he didn't get the chance to throw sure fucking did!"

_Dead_. If she didn't know what it felt like to have her heart torn out through her chest before, she did now. Her eyes widened as she stared at Dean; his face swam in and out of focus. He suddenly looked very far away. "No!" she cried again, smacking him instead. "He's not… he's not!" She collapsed against his chest in furious tears, pounding her fists at him again and again. Even in his injured state, he let her, gently rubbing her back and holding her tightly as she poured out the pain they all felt inside. She'd had only five short, bittersweet moments with her lover before she was torn away from him again.

By the time Evan brought the helicopter near the Texas-Mexican border, she was completely numb. As she lay listless in Dean's arms, she wondered if all of the jostling and jerking around had injured the baby at all; she prayed it didn't. The baby was now all she had left of the man they left behind.


	31. Chapter 31

He couldn't feel anything but pain. His head felt like it was a log being chopped in half by a hatchet. His chest felt tight, his breath constricted, his lungs on fire. Groaning, he opened his eyes and tried to sit up… and immediately fell back with his eyes closed, crying out in agony as a sharp burst of pain welled up on the side of his head. He felt so incredibly helpless, on the verge of tears… but he knew he couldn't stay like this forever. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes again and forced himself to fight through the pain and sit up. He let out another yelp of pain, his hand flying up to cover the wound on the side of his head. The hand came away bloody; he couldn't help but shiver at the sight of it, and the shiver caused another jolt of pain. He had to get out of this… what was he wearing? A vest? Yes, he needed to get rid of this vest. Maybe then he would be able to breathe. He unzipped it slowly, easing his aching arms out at letting the heavy thing (what on Earth was it made out of?) drop to the floor. He also pulled some sort of plastic earpiece away, casting it aside as well.

It was only then, when he was finally able to take a full, deep breath that he surveyed his surroundings, and the first thing he saw was fire. The 3 story house in front of him was completely engulfed in flames, from the ground floor all the way up to what remained of the roof. Surely nothing could have survived a fire like that… but why weren't there any fire trucks here? Was this house really just going to burn, with no intervention? He wasn't sure. He couldn't think clearly enough to figure it out.

Somehow, it came to mind that he needed to leave this place. If emergency services weren't here by now, then they weren't coming, and judging by the hills in the distance that he could see, he was pretty far from civilization. He needed to get up and start walking, before he didn't have the energy to do so anymore. He had to find a hospital.

He reached for a nearby patio table to steady himself on. Gripping the edge of the table hard, he slowly and painfully lifted himself up a few inches. It took several tries and many painful shouts, but eventually he managed to get to a standing position. He was a little shaky on his feet, but he was finally standing. But now that left the question- what direction should he head in? Away from the fire sounded good. Yes, he was going to move as far away from that fire as possible, even though it was still dark out and he was likely to get lost, or turned around… it didn't matter. He just needed to go. Casting one last look back at the burning house, he turned and slowly made his way in the opposite direction.

* * *

Hours passed. He didn't know how many, nor did he know how he managed to keep making his body move. Each step he took was more draining and painful than the last. Pale early morning light was streaming over the horizon now, and the temperature had already risen enough to cause beads of sweat to form on his forehead. How his body was able to produce any moisture at all, he would never know- his mouth was incredibly dry, and his throat begged desperately for water. He was so tired, so hungry and thirsty, and in so much pain… how much longer could he last out here?

His feet suddenly felt very heavy. He began to sway a little as the feeling traveled up his legs, quickly halting his progress and slowing him to a complete stop. Now that he wasn't on the move, his body wasn't able to hold itself up anymore. He dropped to his knees, struggling to stay even partially upright, but it was hopeless. He quickly fell back, landing harshly on the dry, dusty grass below. _I'm going to die out here, _he thought, before finally accepting defeat and closing his eyes.

* * *

AJ was completely silent during the plane ride back to Chicago, and no one expected anything different. She treated Dean's leg wound, disinfecting, applying anesthetic, and stitching it up without a word using the medical supplies they'd brought along. Dean was glad for her expertise; much of her veterinary experience could be applied to human care as well, and she was far more skilled and adept in this area than Seth. But as soon as she secured the bandages around Dean's calf and stripped off her gloves she turned back to the window, not making eye contact for the rest of the trip. The boys had all changed out of their dirtied gear and boots, but she remained in her bloodstained and torn T-shirt.

She expected Kaitlyn's jovial reaction when they all walked through the door; she had been awake all night, awaiting their return. But she couldn't bring herself to return her best friend's affection. Her arms hung listlessly at her side as Kaitlyn hugged her, crying tears of unbridled joy at her safe return. How could she possibly express love for another person now, when the one she loved most was gone? Even though she'd missed her most supportive pal dearly, she just couldn't will herself to hug back.

After several moments of embrace she separated herself from Kaitlyn awkwardly, turning away and heading back into the bedroom that was now hers alone. She even ignored Clark and Nacho, shooing them away with a wave of her hand before closing the door and locking it.

"What's wrong?" Kaitlyn asked slowly, turning to look at the boys. "I don't get it. Why is she acting like that?" But as she studied their pale, crestfallen faces, a realization dawned on her. "Wait, where's…" There was Seth, who was the second person she hugged, and Colt, Dean, Roman, Dolph, Evan, and Zack, but no… "Oh my God! Where's Punk? What happened to Punk?"

Seth stepped forward, taking her hand. "He… didn't make it," he replied quietly, looking down.

* * *

AJ had expected her shower to be much more refreshing than it was. The hot water provided her no comfort, merely stinging her skin after awhile. With a sigh she turned the water off and stepped out, watching as the last of the blood and dirt from her skin circled down the drain. She suddenly decided she would keep the blood-stained shirt that lay on her bathroom floor; it was all she had of Hunico, only one of the two men who had died for her tonight. Thinking about it, she thought she might cry again, but her eyes remained unblemished. She had cried herself dry of tears.

She dropped her towel as she walked through the connecting door to her bedroom. Grabbing a shirt and a pair of Punk's boxer shorts to change into, she lay back on the bed and found that the pillow on his side still smelled of him. The whole bed did- it was infected with the deeply addicting scent of his soap, his skin, his gel, and his hair all rolled into one. Catching a tight breath in her throat, she suddenly realized her earlier assessment had been wrong. She still had plenty of tears left to give, and she began to pour them all out as she ignored the knocks on her bedroom door.

* * *

"That's the 5th time I've tried!" Kaitlyn cried, banging at the door once more in frustration before turning away. "She won't answer me!"

"Do you blame her?" Colt asked as she returned to the living room. "She's had a rough night. A really, really fucking rough night… fuck." He shook his head, biting his lip hard to stave off the tears he felt forming at the thought of his best friend. "I'm going home. I need a drink. And a shower. And another drink." He glanced at the rest of them. "I'll, uh, call you tomorrow. Or something. I don't know."

Over the next hour or so, most of the group dispersed. Dolph and Evan cleared out after Colt, followed shortly by Zack and then Roman. All of them promised to follow up with AJ soon. Finally it was down to just Dean, Seth, and Kaitlyn. "You guys can get out of here, if you want," Dean offered, standing up (with a little difficulty). "You could use some rest."

Kaitlyn looked up from where she lay in Seth's arms; she hadn't moved from this spot since giving up on trying to talk to AJ. While she was saddened by the news of Punk's death, she was shamefully glad it hadn't been Seth, and she needed to hang onto him. "And who's going to look after AJ?" she asked.

"I will," Dean answered, leaning back against the wall.

At this, she actually cracked a small smile. "You?" she scoffed. "The emotional wall? Please. She'll end up killing you by morning." She shook her head. "No way. _You _should go."

"First of all," Dean said coolly, "I'm not as much of an asshole as you think I am. And second, I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to take care of her. Punk asked me to."

"Why?" Seth asked, understandably confused. Dean, of all people, seemed like the least likely candidate Punk would have selected to charge the care and keeping of his girlfriend with.

Dean thought back to his conversation with their former leader, only a short day ago. "I don't want to talk about it," he replied finally. "Look, we'll be okay here. I know you hate me, Kaitlyn, but I'm not going to let anything happen to her, I promise. You can go."

Kaitlyn frowned. What if AJ needed her, and she wasn't here? The idea of not being under the same roof with her, at least for the next few days, didn't sit well, but at the same time she knew she couldn't smother AJ. She needed to give her broken friend time to open up. Maybe, in that respect, the insensitive Dean who appeared to despise talking about feelings would be good company for her for now. So she got up, and within ten minutes had packed up cleared everything she'd brought with her out of the guest room she and Seth had inhabited.

"If there's any trouble…" Seth reminded Dean as they headed to the door.

He nodded. "Yeah. I know. I'll call. Get of here already." Finally alone, he stripped off his clothes and showered in the other bathroom. The hot water, while of no comfort to AJ, may as well have been heaven for him. He spent half an hour beneath the stream, finally getting out when he felt a little more relaxed. But it was only when he got to the guest room wearing only a towel did he realize he had nothing but boxers to put on. After searching the dresser, he managed to find a pair of shorts Seth must have left behind. Left with no choice, he slipped them on and headed out into the kitchen for a glass of water. As he drank it, his eyes landed on a framed photo of Punk and AJ at a restaurant. He remembered this picture- he was fairly certain he himself had taken it. Picking it up off the counter, he studied the beaming faces of the couple. _What am I supposed to do now? _He thought. _How do I fulfill my promise?_

* * *

**Author's note: Aw you didn't really think I killed him did you? ;) I would never do that. Stay tuned to see where he ends up!**


	32. Chapter 32

_"How long has he been asleep?" asked a low male voice._

_"Almost a day and a half," a female voice replied. "But I think he's getting better. There hasn't been any blood on the bandages since last night. I think he might wake up soon."_

_"I hope he just dies already," another voice spat hatefully. It was male like the first, but higher-pitched, as though it belonged to a boy. Maybe a young teen._

_"Dominick!" the woman scolded._

_"What's wrong with you?" the man snapped. "Don't say things like that!"_

_"Why not?" the boy, Dominick, challenged ruefully. "We don't know who he is or anything about him and you just brought him into our house, Dad! If you have such a big heart for random Americans you find lying around, why didn't you just take him to the hospital and leave him there?"_

_"You know why," his father replied. "I've already told you. I was 50 miles out from Juarez and only 10 miles from home. I didn't know if he would make it that far. "_

_"And you don't even know if he's American," his mother pointed out._

_"He has a Pepsi tattoo and English words on his hands and arms," Dominick reminded them. "He's American. I don't trust Americans, and I don't know why you do!"_

_"Papi, you have to let go of your hatred," his father urged. "This man has nothing to do with-"_

_"Whatever," Dominick growled angrily, cutting him off. "I'm going to find Aalyah." There was a loud crash, perhaps the sound of a door slamming, as the boy's footsteps echoed away._

_There was a heavy, frustrated sigh. "I don't know what to do with him sometimes," the man said. "He just gets so-" He paused, falling silent for a moment. "Wait, I think he's waking up!"_

He couldn't open his eyes at first. His eyelids felt too heavy, like someone was pressing down on them. But with a muffled groan and some effort, he managed to open them slowly. It took a moment for his hazy vision to focus enough to observe what was in front of him, and when it finally did, he was able to observe a man and woman he didn't recognize standing over him.

"How are you feeling?" the woman asked, smiling warmly.

"It… hurts," he muttered weakly. "And I'm… I'm thirsty."

"Oh, of course!" the woman said, hurrying to the table next him. She picked up a pitcher of water, pouring some into a cup. "I haven't given you any in a few hours."

"Here, I'll help you sit up," the man offered. He was covered in tattoos and quite short, a little shorter than the woman- maybe his wife? His voice, as well as the woman's, clearly carried traces of Hispanic accents. "Come on, slowly now. Take your time."

He groaned slightly as the man helped him into a sitting position and propped pillows up behind him. Moving hurt, but it felt good to be sitting up. "Try to drink," the woman said kindly, holding the cup to his lips. She helped him take a few sips, and the cool water soothed his cracked lips and burning throat.

"Thank you," he choked out, looking at both of them. His voice was oddly scratchy and dry.

"You're welcome," the man replied. "I'm Rey. This is my wife, Angie. What's your name?"

"Hi," he replied, trying to smile. "I'm… I'm…" But then he frowned suddenly. "Fuck, I don't… I don't know…" He shook his head slowly, an action that caused a rush of pain to his head. He groaned, shutting his eyes tightly until it passed. "Where am I? What happened to me?"

"We're not sure what happened," Angie admitted. "My husband found you in a field on his way back from Juarez. You were out, so he brought you back here. You're at our farm in Guadalupe. You've been asleep for a couple of days."

"You've got a pretty nasty head wound, too," Rey added. "Might be why you're a little confused. Are you sure you can't remember your name? What about where you're from? Judging by your accent, you're probably American. Can you remember the state?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, it's… wait." He sighed, looking down. It felt as though the information he desired was right on the tip of his tongue, but it faded as soon as he tried to open his mouth. "I can't remember. I can't remember anything."

"That's okay," Rey assured him with a smile. "It'll probably come back to you once you've healed up a bit." Then he chuckled. "We've actually been referring to you as Punk since we brought you here."

"Punk?" he echoed with a frown. "Why Punk?"

"Because of the tattoo on your leg," Rey explained. "We needed something to call you, and that stuck."

"I have a tattoo?"

At this, both Rey and Angie laughed. "They're everywhere!" Angie said, pulling back the blanket.

"Wow," he gasped, studying the numerous inked designs all over his arms and chest. "This is crazy. I don't remember getting any of this. It must have hurt." He winced at the thought, then fell silent. He truly had no identity- but this placeholder name he'd been given, Punk, somehow sounded fitting. So he nodded, taking a deep breath. "So, I guess I'm Punk until further notice?"

"Looks like it, amigo." Rey smiled.

"Are you feeling up to some food?" Angie asked. "I just made dinner."

* * *

AJ didn't speak to anyone, not for an entire week. Emotionally drained and now devoid of will, she didn't feel like she had anything worth saying. So she remained silent and withdrawn, only emerging from her bedroom to eat, even then her trips to the kitchen were few and far between. She didn't answer any of Kaitlyn's calls, who had taken to living with Seth at his apartment.

"I'm so worried about her," Kaitlyn muttered nervously on the 7th day after they returned to Chicago. She was gathered in the living room with Seth, Dean, Roman, and Colt. It had been a rough week for all of them- each mourned the loss of Punk in their own way, while at the same time trying to piece the shattered remains of their lives back together. But AJ, as expected, was by far taking it the worst. "I just wish she would open up to me, but I don't know what to do."

"We need to do something," Seth agreed, squeezing her hand encouragingly.

"Yeah, but what?" Roman asked. "She won't talk to Kait, and the rest of us sure aren't any better substitutes. It's like she's completely locked down. No matter what any of us say, she blocks us out."

"Well, we can't just fucking leave her to her own devices," Colt argued. "It would be one thing if she was just crying and eating ice cream every night, but she's not. She's completely shut off. Not to mention she's pregnant. This can't be good for the baby."

"Please, _don't _fucking mention the pregnancy," Dean begged with a groan. "She freaks out and starts throwing things at me whenever I ask about the baby or even hint at it. It's the only form of communication we've had." He had more or less taken up residence at the house; the dresser in the guest room was now filled with his clothes. While he wasn't quite sure how to do it, aside from tending to Clark and Nacho and keeping the fridge stocked, he was determined to keep his promise to Punk, even if it meant putting his entire life on hold while he figured things out.

Roman just shook his head. "Then what are we supposed to do?" he asked.

"Hell if I know," Dean muttered.

Seth let out a sigh, letting down his hair only to quickly tie it back up again; fooling with it was a nervous habit he had picked up over the years. "Well, you sort of put yourself in charge of her well-being, Dean," he reminded the frustrated blond man in front of him.

"Yeah, so what's your plan?" Kaitlyn challenged. "You butted me out, so how are you going to fix her?"

"I don't fucking know yet, all right!" Dean snapped. "Just give me time."

"Hey, hey, why doesn't everyone calm down?" Colt advised. "This is no one's fault. We're in this together. We can't all break down and get at each other's throats now, too."

Dean merely waved him off. The gang cleared out about an hour later, after no agreement on a course of action could be reached. He sat alone in the living room as usual, one hand pressed to his forehead, the other idly scratching Nacho behind the ears. He reached out for Clark, but the tiny cat quickly shied away from him. This behavior had confused Dean at first, as Punk's cat had always been friendly to him before. But it didn't take him long to figure it out, when a few days after they got back he began meowing at the front door every night. The poor thing missed his true master.

As he sat pondering what he would do next, an upbeat jingle sounded from the kitchen. He was startled for a moment, but quickly realized the sound was AJ's cell phone ringing. He got up and snatched off the counter, preparing to silence the ringer, but the contact name on the screen jumped out at him- Dr. Jackson's office. _Hell, might as well answer it, _he thought. "Hello?"

"Hi, this is Dr. Jackson's office calling for April Mendez," a pleasant female voice answered.

"Yeah, she's… not here right now," he replied awkwardly. "Can I… take a message?"

"Oh, is this Phil?" she asked. "Her boyfriend?"

_No, _he thought bitterly. _'Phil' is dead and I'm just a shitty replacement. _But he swallowed his anger and answered anyway, figuring it was the only way to get information out of this woman. If there was something that needed to be done for the baby, he was more than willing to lie for the sake of it and AJ's health. "Uh, yeah," he mumbled, wincing slightly.

"Well, we're calling because she missed the appointment she had scheduled yesterday," she explained. "The two of you made the appointment last month after her last check-up, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," he lied. "Sure. Yeah, we weren't able to make it yesterday."

"Would you like to reschedule? I can fit you in tomorrow at 2 PM, if you'd like."

Reschedule. There was no way AJ would even begin to listen to him, or let him take her to an appointment… but suddenly, thinking back to his promise, he was determined to make her listen. Today was the day things would change. "Yeah, sounds good. Thanks." As soon as he was off the phone, he marched straight to AJ's door and knocked loudly. He knew she wasn't asleep; she rarely slept these days. As he expected, there was no answer. "AJ, come on. Open up. It's important."

There was a loud bang; likely, she'd thrown something at the door to ward him off as she often did. But this time, he wasn't walking away. "Listen, I'm done with this shit!" he snapped. "We need to talk! I'm not your best friend, so I'm not going soft on you! If you don't open this fucking door, then I'm breaking it down! You have till the count of three before I rip this thing off its hinges. One, two-"

The door flew open. There she stood, petite, exhausted, and clearly angry. She was wearing one of Punk's shirts, which reached to her knees, and presumably not much else. "What?" she growled.

He was almost so taken aback by her actually speaking to him, he didn't answer for a moment, but he quickly bounced back. "Your doctor called," he replied coolly. "You missed your appointment yesterday, so I rescheduled it for tomorrow at 2. You'd better get your shit together, because we're going."

"I don't want to," she muttered. What was the point, anyway? How could she even attempt to raise this baby without its father around? Surely, it would hate her when it was old enough, and blame her… shaking her head, she turned around to close the door. But Dean caught it before she could.

"You're going, this isn't an option," he insisted, pulling her back to face him. "I know you're upset, AJ. We all are, for the same reason. We all loved him. But-"

"No, you don't know!" she cried suddenly, jerking her arm from his grip. Her shoulders heaved with anger as she spoke. "You have no fucking idea, Dean. He may have been one of your best friends, but he was more than that to me! He was my partner, the father of my child, and the love of my life! You don't know what that's like! And what's more, he wouldn't even be… _gone_, if it wasn't for me! It's my fault!"

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, shaking his head in confusion. "That wasn't your fault, AJ. He was shot by one of Del Rio's men. If Del Rio hadn't-"

"But he wouldn't have even been there if it wasn't for me!" she protested through fresh tears, feeling another bubble of pain swell up inside her even as she admitted the feeling she'd been hiding this whole week. "And neither would any of you. You wouldn't have gotten hurt, Punk would still be here, Kaitlyn would still have her life in New Jersey, and all of you would still have jobs if I hadn't been so selfish and insisted you quit all because _I _wanted you to! This is all my fault!"

Dean swallowed hard, digesting this. Yes, the chain of events could be traced back to AJ's insistence that they clean up their lives, but that didn't mean it was her fault… but he wasn't going to tell her that. It was time for tough love, no matter how much it hurt. "And so what if it is?" he challenged. "You can't do anything to change it now. You can't wish everything different. What matters now is that you're here and you're alive and you're pregnant. What would Punk think if he was here now and saw that you were neglecting his baby? Is that any way to honor him, especially if you think his death was your fault?"

This took AJ by complete surprise. She opened her mouth to retort, but nothing came out, because in her heart she knew he was right. As more tears flowed, she placed her hand on her stomach. She knew she owed to Punk _and _this baby to keep going… but how? "But I don't know how," she sobbed, leaning back against the doorframe in utter defeat.

"Don't worry about that," Dean replied, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly. "I'll be here to help you." The words coming out of his mouth and the gesture were both alien to him; normally, he would have just stalked off after yelling at her, muttering to himself about how stupid she was. But he couldn't be that Dean. Punk had made him promise not to be.


	33. Chapter 33

The first evening after waking up was absolutely agonizing for Punk. After being humiliatingly fed (he was too weak to hold a spoon by himself) a light meal by Angie, Rey helped him into the bathroom. With his limited range of movement it took almost an hour, but he managed to get into the shower and wash the blood and grime from his aching body. When he limped back out into the tiny room he'd awoken in, he found they had provided him with clothes and fresh sheets on the bed.

Just as he zipped up the jeans he found folded on the edge of the bed, there was a knock on the door. "Is everything okay?" Rey asked before entering the room. "Do you need any help?"

"I'm good, thanks," Punk replied, easing himself back onto the bed. "Thanks for the clothes."

"I'm just glad they fit," Rey said. "I knew none of mine would work. You're a little taller than me."

He managed a chuckle. "They're a little loose, but they work."

Over the several days, Punk slowly but surely began to gain his strength back. Angie tended to his head wound constantly, disinfecting it and changing the bandages in the tender manner only a mother could manage. By the end of the week, he was able to join the kind family at their dinner table.

"Hey, it's good to see you up and walking around!" Angie told him with a smile as she set out the dishes.

"Here, sit down," Rey offered, pulling a chair out for him.

"Thank you," Punk said gratefully, easing himself into the chair with a slight wince. He was stronger now, but his body was still worn and weary. As he looked down at the meal before him, his heart swelled with gratitude- this family, who clearly didn't have much to offer (from the looks of it, their home was small and old), was giving him everything they had without a thought. "Thank you so much, really."

Rey merely smiled at him. "Dominick!" he called. "Aalyah! Dinner!"

Moments later, two children came to the table. Punk had heard their names from Angie and Rey, but being mostly bedridden until today, he had yet to meet them. There was a sullen-faced boy, maybe 14 or 15, and a little girl of around 9 or 10. "I don't want to eat with _him_," Dominick growled.

With a sigh, Rey rolled his eyes. "Dom, I'm tired of this," he said sternly. "Sit down."

"I'm not hungry," he snapped. With a suspicious, sidelong glance at Punk, he ran from the table. A moment later, the sound of a door slamming echoed through the house.

"I'm sorry," Angie lamented as she sat down. "He's been like this all week. He… doesn't trust you."

"Oh, don't worry about it," Punk assured her. "I don't blame him, really. You don't know anything about me." Taking a sip of his glass of water, he chuckled. "Hell, I don't know anything about me."

"We believe in helping good people who need it," Angie explained to him as she doled out food to everyone's plates. "You were in need, and we were there to help."

"But you don't know if I'm a good person," Punk pointed out.

"You seem fine so far," Rey said. "Now shut up and eat already." He chuckled, and they all dug in.

"Hi," Aalyah said suddenly, looking at him quickly before nervously turning her attention back to her dinner. "How, um… how are you feeling now?"

Punk smiled at her. "A lot better, thanks to your mom and dad," he replied. _Sweet kid_, he thought.

"Good." She smiled back shyly before lifting a forkful of rice to her mouth.

"So, I had a question," Punk announced a moment later, after a moment of thought. He'd been in too much pain for most of the week to even think about it, but with his head a little clearer now, it came to mind. "You said we're in Guadalupe, Mexico, right? Well… why do you all speak perfect English?"

"I figured you'd ask sooner or later," Rey replied with a chuckle. "Actually, my wife and I lived in California since we were kids, and our kids were born there. We lived in San Diego up until about four years ago. My grandfather owned this farm we live on now, and when he died, he left it to me. We came here to take care of it and eventually sell it. We only planned to be here for maybe six months or so, but when we tried to go back, the American government wouldn't let us. You see, my wife and I had dual citizenship in both Mexico and America, and when we were here for what they saw as too long, we inadvertently gave up our American citizenship. Our children were born American citizens of course, so they couldn't be forced to stay, but we have no family in California who would have taken care of them while we tried to have this sorted out. So we've been here ever since."

"That's why Dominick doesn't trust Americans," Angie explained. "He feels betrayed by America for having to leave his home, his school, and his friends."

"Wow," Punk muttered, looking down. Suddenly, he felt ashamed of (what he assumed was) his own nationality. "That's awful. I'm so sorry that happened."

"It hasn't been easy," Rey admitted, "but we've adjusted to life here. Guadalupe is a small town, but everyone here has welcomed us. There aren't many Americans- just a few who help run an orphanage it town-but I imagine you will be welcomed the same way. That is, if you choose to stay."

Punk sighed, eyes falling back to his plate again. He'd been thinking this whole week about having Rey take him to the nearest American embassy, but what good would that do? They wouldn't know who he was either, unless they had his fingerprints on file, and that would only be if he'd committed a crime in his life. That brought another fear to mind- what if he was actually on the run from the law, and that was why he'd been in Mexico in the first place? He had no way of knowing. No, he had no other choice but to rely on the hospitality of the Mysterio family. "I will, if you'll have me."

* * *

AJ refused to let Dean tell anyone he was taking her to her appointment- not even Kaitlyn. She wasn't ready for the comfort and warmth Kaitlyn would attempt to surround her with. She couldn't handle kind words right now, not when she was busy blaming herself for everything bad that had befallen her best friend. If it wasn't for her, Kaitlyn would still have her job, her car, and her apartment. She wouldn't be tangled up in the in the mess that AJ was now forced to call her life. Because of this terrible guilt she carried she remained silent, with only the sullen and often angry Dean for contact. And she knew she couldn't very well lean on him for emotional support.

"Come on," Dean called that afternoon, glancing down at his phone. "Hurry up. We're gonna be late." He just wanted to get this damn thing over with all ready.

"I'm coming!" she snapped as she emerged from her bedroom. "Let's go."

They both were silent on the drive to her doctor's office, and sitting in the waiting room was even more awkward. Dean shifted anxiously, flipping through magazines and eventually throwing them all down in a frustrated huff. He didn't like being here, surrounded by expectant moms and their husbands. He wasn't even the father! Not to mention, he hated doctors' offices.

"I'm sorry," AJ whispered suddenly, as though she could read the thoughts running through Dean's mind. She was no fool; she could clearly tell how uncomfortable he was. He had been the most vocal in the very beginning about being against quitting the business, and was especially furious at the prospect of turning his life upside down at the behest of a growing family that wasn't even his. If she felt bad about making them quit before, she was wracked with soul-crushing guilt now. Biting her lip, she clutched the Wonder Woman keychain Punk got her when they'd been together for two months. She'd been holding onto it for dear life since she got back.

* * *

"So what's the next move?" Roman asked.

Colt frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean for us," he clarified, popping open the top to his beer and taking a long sip.

"Jesus Roman, it's 3 in the afternoon," Seth muttered. "Already?"

"Stop changing the subject," Roman replied with a wave of his hand. "What are we going to do now? We're out of work and we've been sitting on our hands like this for a week."

"We've been grieving," Colt pointed out sorely. He'd had his share of rough times this week, sleepless nights spent thinking about the man he grew up with and wishing they hadn't left him behind.

"Well, sure," Roman acknowledged, "but think about it. Punk was never a sit down and take it guy. He was a stand up and take charge guy." He winced; referring to Punk in the past tense would take some getting used to. "Would he want us just sitting around here thinking about him, or would he want us to get off our asses and do something with our lives?"

"I know, I know," Colt intoned, "and it wouldn't just help us… it would probably be good for AJ to see us all getting back to normal… but what would we even do?"

"What about the comic business?" Seth suggested. "Punk mentioned something about it a couple of months ago. He said AJ suggested that we turn in legitimate. There's a huge market for that shit now. I mean, Punk was the nerd, but I'm sure AJ could pick up that slack for us, when she's ready, considering she's still on maternity leave from the vet's office."

"I don't know if it would be viable right away, but it's not a bad idea," Colt admitted.

Roman grinned. "See? We can do this."

* * *

"Well, the fetus looks more or less healthy," Dr. Jackson explained, "but it's small. You yourself are a small woman, so it's expected that the baby would be a little smaller, but it's too small even by that standard, and you've barely gained any weight. I don't think you've been eating enough."

"I know," AJ muttered guiltily, looking down at her belly. It was still covered with gel, and the image of her barely growing baby was frozen on the screen next to her. She hadn't been very hungry lately.

"Does this have anything to do with…" She gestured next to AJ, where Dean sat tapping his foot.

"With what?" AJ asked.

"April, I may have a lot of patients, but I remember them all," the doctor replied with a soft sigh. "This isn't the man you came in with the first time. If you're having problems at home, you can't let it affect the health of your baby. It's important that you maintain a healthy diet and continue regular check-ups, even if the dad isn't in the picture anymore."

"Hey, let's get one thing straight!" Dean snapped suddenly, standing up. "He's not some fucking deadbeat, all right? Don't act like you know everything! He'd be here if he could!"

"I'll, um, leave you to get dressed…" Red-faced, the doctor hurried out.

"Fucking bitch," Dean growled, reaching for a paper towel. "Didn't even get this crap off." AJ blushed as he wiped the towel across her stomach, removing the gel.

"Dean, you don't have to-" she began.

"I don't want to hear it," he cut her off. He crumpled up the paper towel and tossed in the trash can before grabbing her jeans off the table, handing them to her and turning around. "Go on. Get dressed."

As she quietly slipped off the table to put her pants on, she studied the monitor next to her. The little thing wasn't much bigger then when she'd last seen it, but she could already feel Punk's presence in it. And looking back at Dean, she couldn't help but think he was trying his best. If he could pick himself up, then maybe, so could she.


	34. Chapter 34

Over the next several weeks, Rey taught Punk the basics of working around the farm- milking the cows, operating the plow, tending the field, etc. The more Punk healed, the more physical work he was able to do, and it quickly became an unspoken agreement between the kind family and their visitor. Punk would be allowed to stay in their spare room in exchange for becoming a much-needed second pair of hands and helping Rey pick up the slack around the farm. The arrangement seemed to work fine for almost everyone, with Rey and Angie very appreciative of his help, and Aalyah quickly becoming sweet on him, leaving drawings and various art projects in his room. Only Dominick remained sour, largely avoiding him whenever he could and giving him steely glares when he couldn't.

But Punk wasn't exactly thrilled either, because now, while his body was physically healed, his mind was still a jumbled and clouded mess. He and Rey had been hopeful that his memories would return, but he was a month out from injury and still had no idea where he was from, or what he did for a living or even how old he was. It often left him disheartened after a day of hard work.

"Don't give up," Rey told him one evening as the washed up at the water basin in the barn. "You'll get it back eventually. The brain takes time to heal." He turned off the faucet and reached for a couple of towels, tossing one to Punk and using his own to dry his hands. "Hey, why don't you go out tonight? There's a bar in the middle of town. Most people there probably won't speak English, but it would probably do you some good to get out of the house for a little while."

"Are you sure?" Punk asked, hanging up his towel. "I don't know if that's such a good idea…" He ran a hand nervously over his close-cropped hair. Angie told him after he woke up that it used to be longer and slicked back, but she'd had to shave it so she could get access to the wound and treat it. It had grown back enough that his scar was mostly covered, but it was still visible to the trained eye. "What if someone who _does _speak English, or is patient enough to deal with what little Spanish I've learned so far tries to talk to me? I won't have anything to say because I know nothing about myself."

"Ah, come on!" Rey urged, punching his shoulder playfully. "Go. Take a night off from sitting in your room and staring at the wall and trying to remember shit."

"All right, all right," Punk conceded. Maybe Rey was right- it would be good to unwind a little, to relax and get to know some people in town. He showered and changed into jeans that were a little too loose, and a white T-shirt that was a little too small (he refused to let Rey spend money on clothes that fit). He didn't even need directions to find the bar- he'd ridden into town with Rey a few times, and the town was small enough that even going to the shops gave him a good view of everything else that was around. Declining to have Rey drive him, he walked there.

Despite being located in such a small town, the bar was loud and a little rowdy by the time Punk walked in. There was a live local band up on a tiny wooden stage, and the general vibe was a comfortable one. But for some reason, even being here gave Punk a strange feeling, almost like he didn't belong in a place like this… and somehow, he knew it wasn't the language barrier that made him feel that way. Sighing lightly, he moved to sit at the far end of the bar. Although he couldn't remember, he imagined this might be what high school felt like- hoping he wouldn't be noticed.

He sat listening to the buzz of patrons around him, casually flipping a cardboard coaster around to occupy his hands. Glancing around for a moment at the tables full of content people, he shook his head slowly. He knew Rey had meant well by suggesting he come here tonight, but this just didn't seem like the place for him. Maybe he would just head back to the farm…

"You're not from around here, are you?"

Punk turned to find a young woman had climbed onto the stool next to him. His eyes widened a little- she definitely wasn't the type of person he would have expected to see around here. She was stunningly beautiful, with kind eyes and highlighted red hair. What on earth was a woman like her doing in some dive bar in a small Mexican town, and why was she talking to _him_? No time to figure it out. Blinking hard, he recovered quickly. "What gave it away?" he asked with a small smile.

"Well, between being paler than me and all of the tattoos, it wasn't too hard to figure out," she replied with a grin. "You stick out like a sore thumb. I'm used to it, because I do, too." She stuck out her hand, offering it for him to shake. "I'm Maria. Maria Kanellis."

He hesitated as he took her hand; already, he was running into problems. What would she think of his 'name'? Surely she would think he was trying to make a fool of her. But he didn't know this woman; he had nothing to lose. "I'm Punk," he answered finally.

"Punk?" she asked with a chuckle. "That's an… interesting name."

_Why does this feel so familiar? _He thought. He suddenly felt as though he shouldn't be in the company of this woman. His stomach lurched, urging him to say goodnight and head back to the farm before he got in over his head… what the hell was wrong with him? "Yeah, it is," he replied with a smile, trying to shake the strange feeling coming over him. "But I guess you could say it suits me." He raised his arms slightly, as though to draw attention to his numerous tattoos.

"So what are you doing in Guadalupe?" she asked. "There aren't many…" She paused. "Well, let's just say that you and I are rarities here. Do you work for the embassy or something?"

"Me?" He laughed. "No way. I'm a farm hand. I…" He hesitated. He didn't want to lie to her, but the truth might be overwhelming. For now he would have to settle for skirting around it. "I'm helping out this really nice family I know." That was the truth… at least part of it. "What do you do?"

"I work at the orphanage in town," she replied. "I came down here a few years ago with a charity foundation and decided to stay to help out. It's really rewarding work, but sometimes it gets really tough with the kids. So on some Fridays, I come here to unwind." She smiled sweetly, leaning forward a little. "Speaking of unwinding… mind if I buy you a drink?"

His smile began to fade. The whole reason he came here was to get a drink and unwind, wasn't it? But now that this pretty girl was actually offering one, he suddenly began to feel sick to his stomach. He couldn't possibly accept a drink. "I… don't think so," he answered slowly.

"I see," she said quietly, looking down dejectedly. Her eyes drifted to his hands, studying them for a moment. "Oh, I get it!" She ran the tip of her index finger over the letters inked across his knuckles, spelling out 'DRUG FREE'. "Are you straight edge or something?"

"Huh?" he asked with a slight frown. He knew he had the words straight edge tattooed over his stomach, but he hadn't the faintest idea what they meant.

"Yeah, the whole no drugs, no drinking thing," she replied. "That's what that means, right?"

He had to think quickly. That certainly made sense, along with the words on his knuckles. "Yeah, I'm straight edge," he answered with a nod. It seemed as though this woman had inadvertently discovered a clue to his past, without even trying. Whoever he used to be, he was certainly principled.

"Well," she said with a wry smile, "in that case, can I get you a soda?"

* * *

Punk spent most of the evening in Maria's company, but for some reason, something felt off about the whole thing. It wasn't Maria- she was a sweet girl (not to mention beautiful), and the more he got to know her, the more he liked her. No, it was something else. Something about this situation felt wrong to him. The more time that passed, the more uncomfortable he felt. He needed to get home and clear his head. A little before midnight, he finally stood up. "Well," he said, "I should probably get going."

"Yeah, it's getting late," she agreed. Then she smiled. "You know, this was fun. I don't get a lot of opportunities to hang out with people from home. Why don't we exchange numbers?"

"Sure," he replied. "But…" Then he frowned. This would create another problem. "I don't have a phone, and I don't know what Rey's number is. I've only been working there for about a month."

"Oh, you're working with Rey's family?" she asked. "I know him. He and his wife donate their excess crops to the orphanage all the time. I'm actually going to pick up some donations at the farm in a few days. Why don't we hang out then?"

"That sounds great," he replied with a smile.

But that night, Punk had a dream he couldn't explain. Most of it was fuzzy and clouded by the time he woke up, but parts of it still stood out to him clear as day. He remembered a woman, with silky brown hair and chocolate colored eyes that shimmered. He remembered the sound of her laughter- it was sweet, bubbly and contagious. He was angry when he woke up- he wanted to hear more of that laughter, and see the face of the woman it came from. But all too soon, she was gone again.


	35. Chapter 35

Even with her realization at the doctor's office, it still took AJ some time to return to any semblance of normalcy, which left Dean to begrudgingly pick up the slack. He paid bills, took care of the animals, kept the kitchen well-stocked, did household repairs and upgrades Punk never got around to in the short time he lived there… and drove himself halfway to insanity in the process.

"I don't know what the fuck I'm doing," he growled over drinks at Colt's house one night, draining the last of his beer in one long gulp. It was his first night out of the house in several weeks, and he'd only left after making AJ promise that she would eat dinner (something he still wasn't fully sure she was abiding by on a regular basis). Swallowing hard, he reached into the cooler for another beer.

"Then don't, dude," Seth said with a sigh, rubbing his forehead. "I'm sure if you let Kaitlyn, she'll go over and take care of everything. You don't have to drive yourself crazy. This isn't your job."

"No, it _is _my job!" Dean shouted, slamming his bottle down on the coffee table. "I promised Punk I would take care of AJ, and I'm a man of my fucking word!"

"I know you want to keep your promise," Colt said calmly (who was still mildly stung by the fact that he hadn't been the one Punk had charged with his girlfriend's safekeeping), "but you can't let it consume your life. When's the last time you slept at your apartment? It's been weeks, hasn't it? Come on, man. We're close to getting the comic business up and running, and we're going to need your help."

"I know, I know," Dean muttered, shaking his head. "But I can do both."

"Can you?" Roman challenged. "You're cracking, Dean, and you know it. You can barely handle what you're doing now, and it's only going to get harder in the next few months."

"I can handle it!" Dean snapped. "I have to! I owe him my life!"

"We _all _owe him our lives in one form or another," Seth reminded him. "But that doesn't mean-"

"Ah, fuck this," Dean growled, standing up and grabbing his keys. "I'm leaving."

"You've been drinking!" Colt said, standing up. "You can't drive!"

"Then I'll walk!" Dean slammed the front door behind him.

"Well, that went well," Roman intoned.

"He's pushing us away, motherfucker," Seth groaned with a sigh, covering his eyes. "Why?"

"He feels guilty," Colt replied. "He was the last one in the helicopter. So now he's trying to fulfill a promise he never expected he would have to keep. He also hates admitting to himself that he cares."

Roman laughed. "When did you become such a psychoanalyst?" he asked.

"I practically raised you fuckers," Colt answered. "I should know you by now."

* * *

AJ sat back on her bed, staring at the uneaten sandwich on Dean made for her before she left. It still remained on her bedside table, untouched now for nearly 2 hours. She was hungry, yes, and she'd promised Dean she was going to eat it, but every time she picked it up and brought it to her lips, she spotted the framed picture of herself and Punk on the table and instantly felt nauseas. She'd gotten better about eating somewhat regularly and even interacted with the boys and Kaitlyn as much as she felt up to, but she often felt too listless to even get out of bed. On nights like tonight, when guilt started to attack her, about being the reason for Punk's death, and her care and keeping consuming Dean, and being responsible for derailing Kaitlyn's life, she couldn't stomach food.

As she reached for the photo again, she heard the front door fly open, and she winced as it slammed. Putting the frame down, she glanced at the clock; it was only a little after 11 PM. "I… wasn't expecting you for a few more hours," she said quietly as he entered the bedroom, looking as surly as ever.

"Didn't feel like hanging out with the guys," he muttered, glancing around the room. She sucked in a tight breath, knowing it was only a matter of time before his eyes landed on her uneaten meal… "Hey, is that the sandwich I made you before I left? Why the fuck didn't you eat it?"

She hugged her knees as she looked down, ashamed at having broken her promise. "I- I wasn't… I wasn't hungry," she faltered, the words tumbling clumsily from her lips. She didn't have a good excuse tonight.

"You fucking promised me you would eat if I left!" he snapped. "What the fuck, AJ? Didn't we talk about this? Haven't we talked about this a million fucking times? Are you trying to fucking starve yourself? Do you want your baby to even make it to birth?"

"I'm eating!" she cried. "I just didn't feel like it tonight, so stop yelling at me, Dean! You're drunk!" She'd detected the slight slur present in his voice the moment he opened his mouth.

"Your baby doesn't _care _if you didn't feel like it," he snapped. "Do I have to start force-feeding you? What do I have to do to fucking get you to take care of yourself?"

"Maybe if you didn't scream at me all the time, I would be more receptive!" she shot back fiercely, her chest heaving as she shouted. She knew he meant well, but his constant anger and aggression wore thin on her nerves. "I've been trying my best, Dean, but you've got to cut me a break! I'm- I'm _grieving_! I lost the love of my life because of what I made him do, and now I have to raise our baby alone!" Hearing those words in her own voice brought tears to her eyes.

"You're not alone!" he protested. "I'm here!"

"Yeah?" she challenged with a sarcastic laugh. "Are you going to be with me in the delivery room and hold my hand while I scream? Are you going to change diapers and make bottles at 2 AM? Are you going to make doctor's appointments, clean spit-up off clothes, and learn nursery rhymes to sing?" Are you going to hold me when I get frustrated and cry because I feel hopeless and want to give up?"

At this, Dean lost his bravado. His gaze broke away, landing shamefully on the carpet. She was right, and they both knew it. He couldn't continue to treat her like this anymore. "I'm not going to make any more promises," he admitted finally, lifting his head to look at her again, "but I'm going to try my best." He crossed the room to sit down next to her on the bed. "I'm sorry."

* * *

The next day began what would be a several day journey for Seth and Kaitlyn. They flew from Chicago to New Jersey, where Kaitlyn tearfully took care of what remained of her old life. She got her car out of the tow yard and sold it, and paid off her debt to her landlord in order to get access to the storage unit where the contents of her apartment had been stored (which admittedly wasn't much). Then she got the paperwork to change the address on her driver's license. Finally, she said goodbye to a few old friends, and they rented a moving van to take everything back to Chicago.

"And… that's the last of it!" Seth announced triumphantly, setting the final cardboard box down on the living room floor. He dusted off his hands, then sank back into the couch next Kaitlyn with a relaxed sigh. Turning to her, he studied her troubled expression with a frown. "What's wrong, baby? Aren't you happy we did this? This is great. You've been worrying about this for awhile, and now it's finally taken care of. It's a huge load off your shoulders. Now we can finally move forward."

"No, I'm happy," she assured him. "It's just…" She sighed. "The whole time we were moving, I couldn't help but think about everything that led up to this. If it wasn't for AJ getting taken, and that whole mess, I would have gone back to New Jersey. Sometimes it's hard to get excited about my life with you, when I remember that if it wasn't for everything that happened, we wouldn't even be together."

He looked back at her, suddenly crestfallen. Was she really so hopeless about their new life together? "I'm sorry I pushed you into this," he muttered listlessly. "Maybe this was a bad idea…"

"Oh, baby, no," she assured him quickly, taking his hands in hers and squeezing them tightly. "I love you, you can be sure of that. It's just that being in New Jersey again dragged up a lot of memories, and with AJ still acting like a brick wall and Dean going nuts every other day…" She paused. "It's just hard to deal with sometimes. But I'm trying to be excited about this new chapter of my life. I really am."

He brightened up a little, smiling back. "You sure?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course. I'm even looking for another gym to work at."

"Phew!" He made a dramatic show of wiping his brow, then sighed with relief. "For a second there, I was afraid you were about to pack everything up again and ditch my ass. But it's good to know I'm hot enough to keep you." He grinned devilishly, winking at her and leaning back.

"Oh, shut up!" she laughed, slapping his knee and pulling him back for a kiss.

"Come on," he urged, standing up and unceremoniously lifting her into his arms. "Let's celebrate!" As he carried her into their bedroom, she had to force herself to shove her depressing thoughts away. She had to remind herself that it was ok to be happy about her life, even when her best friend was in shambles.


	36. Chapter 36

**Author's note: Here's an extra long chapter as a treat for all of you being so patient with my previous delays. I hope you all enjoy and don't worry there will be an AJ centric chapter coming next.**

* * *

"So," Rey asked the next day as they unloaded bags of feed from his truck, "how did it go last night?"

"Oh, it was okay," Punk replied evenly, putting his bag down and returning to the trunk for another. "Until I met Maria." He hauled another bag over his shoulder, but even as he smiled, he was still terribly confused about his dream from the previous night. Who _was _that woman? Shaking his head, he tried to clear the picture of the beautiful girl he didn't know from his mind.

"Ah, so you met Maria?" Rey asked. "I know her." He closed the trunk to the pick-up and headed to the barn, glancing over his shoulder to grin as Punk followed him inside.

"Wait a sec," Punk said suspiciously, leaning back against the door. "You set this up, didn't you?" He laughed, running a hand over his close-cropped hair. "You son of a bitch!"

Rey merely shrugged at him, but his smile never left. "I may or may not have mentioned to her that my new farmhand would be hanging out at the bar last night and didn't know anyone in town."

"I should have known it was way too good to be true that an incredibly attractive woman approached me completely out of her own free will," Punk muttered, shaking his head with a chuckle.

"Hey, come on!" Rey shoved him playfully. "I was trying to help. And she really does like you! She told Angie this morning. She's excited to see you when she picks up the crops on Friday."

"Really?" Punk asked, eyes widening with surprise. "She actually likes me, and she wasn't just being nice because she knows you? But I sounded like such an idiot when I was talking to her!"

"I guess she didn't think so," Rey replied. "Come on, at least act like you're excited!"

"I am, I am, I'm just nervous," Punk admitted. "I don't really… remember how to do this."

"Oh, you'll get back into it," Rey assured him with a casual wave. "It's like riding a bicycle."

"I hope so."

The two friends returned to work after that. Punk had thought the intense physical labor would clear his head, but he quickly found that to be impossible. Even as he tended to the crops and oiled up the tractor, straining his muscles and quickly breaking a sweat in the Mexican heat, he couldn't shake the images of two distinct faces from his mind- the one belonging to the sweet, genuine Maria, and the beautiful, mysterious one of the girl whose name he could not remember.

* * *

"Punk, you should take the afternoon off," Rey suggested as they both came inside the house for lunch. "Maria's coming by in a few hours to pick up the crops. Why don't you relax?"

Punk laughed as he sat down at the table. "Wow, if I didn't know any better, I would say you guys were trying desperately to set me up with her," he teased, taking a bite of the sandwich Angie provided.

"What's the matter, you don't like her?" Angie asked. "You should at least give her a chance. She's a really nice girl. She gave up a lot to help this town, and not many guys her type come through here."

"Oh, no, you've got it all wrong," Punk assured them quickly. "I like her. She's really nice. I just…" He sighed, taking another bite of his sandwich. He wasn't about to tell them about his dreams (and they kept coming, constantly), when he himself wasn't even sure what they meant. "I told Rey yesterday. I barely know what I'm doing here. I might as well be a 15-year-old boy going on a first date."

"All you have to do is tell you how much you like her!" Aalyah piped up as she ran into the kitchen.

"I could try, but I don't think it's that simple," Punk told her, smiling gratefully.

Dominick snorted in disgust as he came to grab his lunch from the table; he usually refused to join the family for any meal while Punk was present. "I can't believe you're trusting _him _with Maria," he growled.

"Oh, you like Maria?" Punk asked, turning to face the sullen boy. He didn't blame Rey's son for hating him, but he often tried to seize any opportunity he could to relate to the kid. "I thought you hated Americans. I thought you didn't trust them. Isn't that right?"

"Yes," he snapped back triumphantly. "I do hate them. And I don't trust them."

"But Maria's an American," Punk pointed out coolly. "You seem to like her."

"Yeah, w-well… well, she's different!" Dominick stammered in protest.

"How?" Punk questioned innocently, putting down his sandwich. "She's American, born and raised, just like me, so you should hate her. But you don't. You like her. You _trust _her. What's different about her?"

Crestfallen and confused, Dominick dropped his plate on the table and ran back to his room. "Wow," Rey muttered with a whistle. "That was… wow."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Punk said, suddenly ashamed. "I didn't mean to upset him."

"No, you were right," Angie assured him. "He needed to hear that. He'll come around soon enough."

"Now go on, finish your lunch and go shower or something," Rey said, tossing a napkin at him. "I want your ass out of this house tonight, you hear? Have a good time."

"Daddy, you said a bad word!" Aalyah scolded.

* * *

As Punk lay back on his bed, awaiting the evening, he thought of the dream he had the night before. This one was the clearest, most memorable yet, and that terrified him. This time, he was able to hear the woman's voice; recalling it sent shivers down his spine, even though he couldn't quite recall what she had even said. But it sounded so familiar, and so comfortable…

"Punk!" came Aalyah's sing-songy voice. "Come here!"

"Coming," Punk called back, swinging his legs off his bed. He headed over to the bathroom, splashing some cold water on his face to banish the troubling thoughts swirling around in his head. Now wasn't the time to be agonizing over dreams he couldn't possibly decipher. Rey and Angie were right. After working himself to the bone almost every day to repay his gratitude to the family who took him in and saved him from certain death, he deserved some time to enjoy himself. Drying his face and hands and straightening his shirt, he stepped into the living room where the family was greeting Maria.

"Hey, there's the guy whose services I just volunteered," Rey announced.

"Services volunteered?" Punk echoed curiously.

"Yep," Maria responded for him. When she smiled that warm and inviting smile of hers, it lit up her face. "You're apparently helping me load the crops into my truck and then helping me unload them again over at the orphanage." She paused. "That is, if that's ok."

"What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't?" Punk replied with a charming smile.

"All right, all right, go on and get out of here," Rey said, waving them off. "Baskets are in the barn."

Punk told them goodnight, Maria thanked them, and the two headed outside. "So," he said casually as they walked around the side of the house, "I heard I've been set up."

She chuckled; disappointingly, it wasn't the enchanting laugh he remembered from his dream. _Shut up, _he thought. _Hers is still nice. Stop comparing her to someone you don't even remember. _"Is that what they told you?" she asked as they reached the barn, leaning against the wall.

"More or less," he teased as he opened the barn door. "So what else do you know about me?"

"About as much as you do," she admitted.

He sighed, looking down for a moment. "So you know about my case of Empty Head Syndrome," he said, but his voice had no humor in it. "And you're not… worried? I sometimes think Rey and Angie are too trusting. They know absolutely nothing about me, and neither do I. What if…" He bit his lip for a moment. He'd never voiced his concerns aloud before, in case the couple took them to heart and decided to either turn him in or kick him out. Either way, he would be on his own and with no support. "What if I'm not such a great guy after all? What if I'm some sort of criminal on the run?"

"I actually had a talk with Dominick about this, but he wouldn't believe me," she confessed. "I know you're secretly afraid of being actually being a bad guy, but don't you realize how stupid that sounds? If you were really some big bad criminal deep down, those ways and that personality wouldn't have been wiped out with a head wound. Even though you don't remember things like your real name or where you're from or when you were born, you're still _you_." She smiled, bumping his ribs lightly with her elbow. "And I think I'm really starting to like you."

* * *

By the time they were done hauling everything out of Maria's pickup truck and into the kitchen at the orphanage, the sun had already set. "Let's go grab dinner at a restaurant in town," she suggested.

"Oh, I don't have any money," Punk admitted sadly. Rey provided him with the essentials in exchange for his labor on the farm. Why hadn't he thought about running into this problem before he left?

"Don't worry, it's my treat," Maria assured him. "Consider it a thanks for helping me out." She hopped into the cab of the truck, patting the seat next to her. "Come on, let's go. This place has some of the best food in town." She smiled. "There's nothing like home-cooked Mexican food, to me."

"I wouldn't know," he replied, climbing into the passenger seat. "Angie makes a lot of 'American' food because the kids were born there. I've been eating a lot of subs and hotdogs lately."

"Well, you'll have something new tonight," she told him.

The meal was a delight to his uncultured stomach, but spending an evening with Maria was even better. His earlier conversation with her had made him feel leaps and bounds more at ease about the mysteries of his past. He was fairly confident now that no deadly secrets remained locked away in his mind. While sarcastic and with a very low tolerance for nonsense, he was sure he had to be a reasonably mild mannered and law-abiding citizen of whatever state he came from.

But as the night wore on, something else confused him. While he didn't remember a single instance of him, he found that flirting with this woman came oddly naturally to him. He could elicit whole-hearted laughter from her with ease; she never went more than a few minutes without smiling. _How the hell am I so good at this? _He thought. _Shit, was I a womanizer or something?_ Despite his earlier reservations about trying to get close to anyone, he was truly enjoying himself.

"This was fun," she said, pulling her truck up to the side of the barn. "We should do it again sometime."

"Are you sure?" he asked with a laugh. "I don't have much to talk about, considering I don't remember anything about my interests. I feel like I was just rambling aimlessly the whole night."

She laughed, too. "Trust me, I had a good time," she assured him. "I'll walk you back."

They got out of the truck and started back toward the house. "So I _will _see you again," he said hopefully as they reached the door, but it sounded more like insistence to him.

"Of course," she replied with a smile.

He grinned. "Good," he said, turning to the door with his key.

"Hey, wait!" she said, pulling at his arm. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

He frowned. "What?" he asked.

She laughed. "Just come here." She pulled him down to her by the shirt collar, locking her mouth to his.

At first, he froze. She was _kissing _him! What the hell was he supposed to do now? He felt utterly confused and helpless for an agonizing moment, but as soon as it passed he found his lips easily moving across hers. He again found himself wondering how this came so naturally to him, but he forced himself to push his doubts aside and enjoy this. His hands slid down around her waist, pulling her body against his as his mouth dipped lower. He could feel warmth surging between them, an unfamiliar comfort he was sure he'd experienced before but was being gifted the chance to feel it again for the very first time.

"Do you want to… keep going?" she whispered.

"Mhm," he muttered back, his voice muffled by the skin of her neck; his answer surprised himself. They stumbled back around to the side of the barn where her truck was parked. He pulled away from her long enough to hop over the side of the trunk, reaching down to help her up as well. His back smacked back against the hard metal below them as she threw herself at him again, but he didn't care. The slight pain only sent a shiver of excitement through him as their lips joined again. He lifted his back slightly so she could pull his shirt off, casting it aside carelessly.

"These are beautiful," she murmured in awe, running her hands down the tattooed surface of his torso.

"_You're _beautiful," he whispered back, pulling her in for another kiss. Where did those phrases, this situation, seem so familiar to him? Gritting his teeth slightly, he pushed the thoughts away and allowed his hands to encircle her again. His fingertips exploded with a tingling sensation, one that tortured his senses as they made contact with the exposed skin of her lower back. He wanted so badly to experience more of this calming, wonderful woman who wandered into his strange life.

But as one of her hands drifted over his obvious arousal, the other making its way to his belt buckle, he suddenly panicked. "Wait," he whispered frantically, his head resting back against the floor of the trunk.

"What's wrong?" she asked with concern. "Do you not want to do this?"

"No, I just… I…" He frowned shamefully; how would he explain this? "I've never done this before."

She chuckled innocently. "A guy like you? I'm sure you have."

"Probably," he agreed, "but I don't remember how."

"You've gotten this far," she reminded him. Smiling sweetly, she ran a gentle hand back over his crew-cut hair. "Your body will remember. Just trust yourself and let go." She leaned in to kiss him again.

Their lips joined once more, he was surprised at how quickly he found she was correct. As soon as he allowed himself to be lost in the exploration of her body, instinct took over. He pushed her up and rotated their bodies, pulling her under him and yanking her shirt away. He found himself in a desperate race to remove their clothing, eager to experience the feel of her naked flesh on his. A gasp escaped him when he finally felt her, warm and smooth and beautiful.

She lay below him, watching and itching with anticipation as his hands roamed all over her body. Her breath hitched in her throat, a tight gasp caught as his rough, calloused palms delighted in the fullness of her breasts. "I… I wish I knew your name," she breathed as he kissed a searing hot line all the way down her torso. "I wish… I wish I could scream it for you…"

"Punk will do," he hissed, nipping at her hip bone before returning to capture one of her nipples gently between his teeth. She yelped, burying her head in his neck to muffle it. One of her hands descended to his lap, seizing him and beginning to stroke him teasingly. He let out a pleasurable moan against her chest, his knees weakening further and further with her increasing ministrations.

"I… I can't… I can't hold out…" he faltered.

"Then do it," she begged.

As he pushed her legs apart to expose her to his throbbing length, a strange voice in the back of his head suddenly urged him to stop. _Please, _it begged, _don't do this. This is wrong. Don't do it._ This sudden, baseless conscience filled him with such confusion, he thought he wouldn't be able to ignore it. He looked down at the woman before him, gazing into bright eyes that begged him to continue. _Shut up, _he told the voice angrily. _Just shut the fuck up and go away!_

With a tight breath he pushed into her, gripping the truck bed to steady himself. He couldn't listen to this voice anymore; he just had to keep going, and to keep hearing her cry the only name she knew for him into his ear as she clawed desperately at his back. She begged and pleaded for him to go harder, faster. He gave in to her, pumping fast with an eagerness to ravage her body; even as he did, the voice only screamed louder. But he was finally rewarded for his persistence, feeling her twitch and quiver in response to him. With a final almost angry groan he pulled out, spilling hot across her stomach.

"I'm sorry," he told her quietly a moment later, as he lay back beside her. "That must have been awful."

To his surprise, she laughed. "Are you kidding?" she asked as she squirmed her way into his embrace, having cleaned her stomach off with a towel found beside them. "Please. Give yourself some credit." She paused for a moment. "I just hope you don't think less of me, for… giving it up on the first date."

"Well, you gave this empty-minded head case a chance, so I guess I can't judge too harshly," he teased.

She laughed again, pinching his shoulder. "Good."

She lay in his arms for a little while longer. Her warm, assuring presence told him things were going to be okay. But the voice that whispered at him cruelly when he finally returned to his room filled his head with doubts, assuring him over and over until the moment he fell asleep, that he was wrong.


	37. Chapter 37

"Well, at least you're feeling a little better," Kaitlyn acknowledged.

"I guess I am," AJ admitted, bringing her plate to the table and sitting down. "I'm not so sure now though, with tomorrow." It was several weeks out from her last argument with Dean, and since then she had been much more at ease in her daily life. She was still plagued with constant nightmares about Punk's death, of course, and often wept herself to sleep when she thought about how dearly she missed him, but her days were much easier to handle knowing she and Dean wouldn't be yelling at each other. He trusted her eating habits enough now that he felt comfortable leaving her alone to go work with the guys on the comic business, and Kaitlyn generally took her lunch break from the gym to eat with AJ.

"Oh, tomorrow's when you find out the gender, isn't it?" Kaitlyn asked.

"Yeah," AJ replied, poking at her salad with her fork as her usual nausea returned and her appetite started to fade. _Come on, you have to eat, _she reminded herself. With a reluctant sigh, she stabbed at the lettuce and put a forkful in her mouth and swallowed it. "I always get so emotional at the doctor's appointments. They're really hard to deal with, without Punk…"

"Oh, April," Kaitlyn lamented, "you know he would want you to be excited about the baby."

"I know," AJ agreed, "but I…" She blinked hard, trying to fight the tears. She hated feeling so hopeless and teary-eyed almost constantly, but in her hormonal and grieving state, she couldn't help it. "How can I possibly be happy knowing he's not here to be here to experience it with me? He was so excited, Kaitlyn. He wanted to have a baby boy he could take to Cubs games and teach about punk rock. And now he'll never be able to do that! My baby isn't going to have any family but me, because his parents are dead, he hasn't spoken to his brother in years, and my parents don't even know I'm pregnant…"

"Hey, your baby is going to have _plenty _of family," Kaitlyn assured her. "It's going to have a bunch of uncles, and one kick ass aunt if I do say so myself." She smiled wryly. "You won't be alone."

AJ forced a smile, looking back up. "I guess you're right."

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want Kaitlyn to go?" Dean pressed as he tied his shoes. "Your doctor probably hates me after last time. Besides, I'm sure she's a lot better than this chick crap than I am."

"It doesn't matter if she hates you, she'll still do her job," AJ replied, adjusting her ever-tightening shirt over her growing stomach. "And no, I don't want her to see me freaking out or getting emotional."

"But it's ok for me to see you freaking out and getting emotional?" he asked.

At this, she laughed. "Well, you're sort of used to it by now."

"Yeah, me of all people," he said with a harsh chuckle. "Let's go."

Dean had to admit that he with AJ's progress. He didn't blame her for her frequent breakdowns; after all, she was still grieving while being pregnant. But she was holding up her end of the bargain, eating regularly and taking her prenatal vitamins, so he was satisfied for now. It didn't stop him, however, from continuing to feel guilty about her being in this situation in the first place. Why hadn't he simply insisted that Punk climb up the damn ladder before him, or better yet, didn't waste time arguing? They both would have made it up to the helicopter in time, and then AJ wouldn't be alone and one of his best friends would still be alive… he owed it to both of them to take care of her, to make sure their child made it ok, and that AJ didn't completely lose herself in the process.

"I'm scared," she told him quietly as they sat in empty waiting room; it was nearly closing time, late enough that they were the last appointment of the day.

"Why?" he asked. "You're just finding out the gender. No big deal."

She just shook her head and looked away, trying to focus on a random issue of Parenting magazine she grabbed from the table. He didn't understand what it was like to feel this, to be experiencing such an important moment in their future baby's development without the person who helped create it. She wondered what Punk would be doing now, if he were sitting here with her. Maybe he would be making fun of the stock photo family on the cover of this magazine, or discussing potential baby names with her and telling her where on his back he was planning on getting it tattooed. Maybe he would be busy assuring her that, even if they found out it was a girl, she would see how wrong she was once the baby was born and they discovered it had really been a boy all along.

"AJ," Dean piped up, patting her knee, "they just called your name. Come on."

It was the same procedure as last time- Dean awkwardly turning away while AJ slid out of her uncomfortably snug jeans, then covering herself with the disposable sheet provided and climbing up onto the table. Then came her least favorite part, the annoyingly cold gel. Thankfully (for Dean, anyway) this was merely a routine appointment that didn't require her doctor, leaving them in the company of an ultrasound technician who had yet to be subjected to Dean's protective wrath.

"Hm," the tech muttered with a slight frown, freezing the image as she studied the screen. "I'm not so sure about this. I might have to call in Dr. Jackson after all."

"What is it?" AJ asked frantically, struggling to prop herself up on her elbows. "What's wrong?"

"Stay still, please," the tech said. "I'll be right back."

"Hey, come back here!" Dean snapped as she left. "Tell us what the hell is going on!"

"Oh my god, what did she find?" AJ whispered, a fearful hand drifting toward her stomach. She couldn't possibly handle something being wrong with the baby. The thought of possibly losing it was enough to cause tremors in her hands. She studied the monitor desperately, but she couldn't tell what to look for.

"Relax," Dean advised gently, placing his hand atop hers to steady it. "Look. That's it's head, right? Looks pretty misshapen… just like Punk's. I bet it'll look just like him." He smiled, but his joke failed to make her smile or even calm her. He sighed, squeezing her hand. "Everything's going to be fine."

They waited in silence, AJ's anxiety climbing as the minutes ticked by. Finally the door opened again, and Dr. Jackson strode in. "I understand there was a little problem with your sonogram," she announced, taking the seat the ultrasound technician had once occupied, with a wary glance toward Dean.

"Please, tell me what's wrong!" AJ begged.

The doctor was quiet for a moment, studying the monitor before responding. "It looks like growth is on schedule as far as organ development goes, but the fetus is still far too small for its gestational age. April, we talked about this at your last appointment. Are you still not eating well?"

Hearing this, Dean immediately began glaring daggers at her. "You're kidding," he said slowly.

"No, I've been eating!" AJ protested. "I swear!" She quickly looked from Dean to the doctor. "Sometimes he makes me eat so much I feel like my stomach is going to explode." She looked at the doctor pleadingly. "Why isn't the baby getting big enough if I'm eating enough?"

"I'm not sure," the doctor admitted. "Your blood work's fine. I think I'm going to give you a high protein-enriched diet to help you gain some more weight. Maybe you aren't absorbing nutrients properly."

"I'll give her a constant IV drip of vitamins if I have to," Dean muttered with a sidelong glance at the doctor. He wasn't happy that she couldn't figure out the problem-didn't this doctor know how to do her damn job?- but he restrained himself for AJ's sake. "Well? Any happy news? Come on. Boy or girl?"

Dr. Jackson smiled. "I hope you're ready for hot wheels trucks," she said, "because it's a boy."

"A boy," Dean echoed with a grin. "That's awesome! AJ? That's good, right?"

AJ was looking down at her torso, her fingertips resting at the top of her rounded stomach. "A little boy," she whispered. She couldn't meet Dean's excitement, no matter how much she tried.

* * *

The next day, AJ forced herself to go shopping with Kaitlyn. She didn't even want to get out of bed, but Dean reminded her that while the baby's room had painted walls and completed furniture, she had absolutely nothing else in preparation for the incoming child. She was determined to get everything she needed in one trip, so she didn't have to go back out again and watch all of the expectant parents shop together. Seeing husbands and wives together made her burn with envy, knowing she would never get to experience that same joy with the father of her baby- her son, she reminded herself.

"Whoa, AJ, slow down," Kaitlyn advised as she pushed the cart around the store. "We don't have to get everything today, you know. You have some time. We can check other stores if you want, or online."

"I just want to get it done, Kait," she replied, almost pleadingly.

Kaitlyn studied her, aware of the pain in her best friend's eyes. "All right," she relented. "Let's check the list, then." She fished a piece of paper out of her pocket. "We've got a car seat, a stroller, bottles, blankets and sheets for the crib, a high chair… what else do we need?"

It took almost 2 hours, but eventually they got everything they needed. AJ paid for all of it in cash, which perplexed the cashier, but accepted it the same. Refusing to let AJ lift anything, much the way Dean did now and Punk did months ago, Kaitlyn loaded everything into the trunk and backseat of the car.

"It looks like we robbed a baby store," Kaitlyn joked as they drove.

"I just want to get all of this stuff put away and lie down," AJ muttered back. She wished she could joke with her best friend, but she just didn't feel up to it, between missing Punk, and now worrying about the baby's health. Why wouldn't her son grow like he was supposed to? She knew she herself was tiny, but surely he wasn't supposed to be _that _small when she was at this stage in her pregnancy.

Kaitlyn sighed. "Everything's going to be okay," she assured her; it hadn't taken her long to figure out what the expectant mother was thinking about. "I'm sure stress is half the problem."

"Maybe, but it's not like I can just not think about it," AJ replied.

"I know, but you have to think about the health of your baby."

It felt like something snapped. "Oh, damn it!" AJ practically shrieked, screeching to a halt in the driveway. "That's what everyone's telling me, to think about the health of the baby! Well I _am _thinking about the health of my baby, Kaitlyn. It's one of the _only _things I think about anymore, because my son is all I have left of his father! If something happens to him, then I have nothing! I don't lift anything, I take my vitamins, I eat _healthy _food until my stomach nearly bursts, I lie down when I'm tired, and I go to all of my doctor's appointments. If there's something else I can be doing to make sure I'm in good health besides pretending my boyfriend wasn't murdered trying to save my life?"

AJ got out of the car without even bothering to wait for an answer. She entered the house and slammed the door behind her, leaving Kaitlyn alone in the car, too stunned to speak or move.

* * *

"I think the girl's ready to crack, dude," Roman announced later that night as he went over a stack of purchase orders in Colt's living room. While business was booming for them, going over their success wasn't enough to clear from his mind another problem at hand. "Dean, I'm talking to you."

"Huh?" Dean muttered, not looking up from his inventory checklist. "What do you mean?"

Roman lightly elbowed Seth, who was on the couch with his laptop looking at their website. "Tell him what Kaitlyn told you when she got home today," he urged.

Seth grimaced as he looked up, closing his laptop and putting it on the coffee table. "It's bad," he agreed. "AJ sort of went ballistic in the car on Kaitlyn." He quickly gave Dean an overview of his girlfriend's tumultuous afternoon confrontation with AJ.

Listening to the story, Colt whistled and put his calculator down on a stack of paperwork. "That's not good," he said with a sigh. "It sounds like she's on the verge of another breakdown."

"What?" Dean growled. "Please. She's pregnant, guys. Hormones. It happens."

"This is more than just _hormones_," Roman pointed out. "She's losing it again."

"And what am I supposed to do?" Dean challenged, finally putting his folder down to look around the living room at the rest of them. "Start yelling at her again every day? Stress her out even more? I'm doing the best I can for her, but I'm not a fucking therapist. She'll just have to pull herself together."

"You've got to be kidding me, Dean," Colt said pointedly, leaning forward in his chair. "You can't just take care of her basic needs and expect the rest to solve itself. She needs someone strong enough to hold her to lean on." He stood up. "I'm beginning to think Punk asked the wrong guy to do this."

"Hey, back off!" Dean snapped, standing as well. "I'm not doing this right because I'm not goddamn Dr. Phil? You don't _want _this responsibility pal, trust me! It's hell!"

"If it's hell, then maybe you should just go home and leave this to a real man!" Colt shot back. "_I'll _fulfill my best friend's dying wish, because clearly you're too much of a dick to do it yourself!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Dean shouted, clearing the distance between them to shove Colt; he pushed back. "You're just mad because Punk trusted _me _to take care of his girl, and not you! Big boss man of the crew loved me and trusted me more, and you're fucking jealous of me for it!"

"You shut your fucking mouth, kid!" Colt warned, his hands burning. How dare this little fucker claim to know Punk better than the man who grew up with him! He would teach this kid a lesson, this little fucking _punk_… that very thought sent an angry jolt straight to his heart. Punk had been right, this angry brat was just like him, maybe that was why he was chosen… growling, he reared back for a punch.

"Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" Seth interjected, he and Roman rising to get between the two of them. "I think we're getting a little worked up for no reason. We're all stressed out. Why don't we-"

"Hold off, peacemaker," Dean cut him off. "I think we're done here." He stormed out of the house without another word, heading straight back to AJ's. But instead of going in through the front door, he unlocked the gate in the backyard and went over to the small memorial near the tree. It was nothing more than an engraved stone plaque in the ground, reading only 'Punk', but they all felt the need to memorialize the man in some way.

"Why did you have to fucking choose me?" he demanded of the gravestone, pounding his fist into the grass next to it. "Everything is falling apart, Punk! I can't take care of her, I can barely take care of myself, and the guys are just… _damn it_!" He punched the ground again and again. "It should have been me, Punk! It should have fucking been me! If I died, no one would have missed me, not nearly as much! No one needs me like they need you! We're fucking crumbling without you!" His fist finally struck the makeshift grave, knuckles scraping roughly across stone as tears formed. "Why did you have to die?"


	38. Chapter 38

AJ spent the rest of her afternoon unpacking everything she bought. Kaitlyn had unloaded everything into the baby's room without a word after her best friend's outburst, disappearing quickly afterwards. That left AJ alone with her own torturous thoughts as she folded clothes, put sheets on the crib's mattress, hung a mobile, and put toys away in the toy box. "It's all done," she muttered to the empty room, looking down at her stomach. "Now all that's left is for you to get here."

With absolutely nothing left for her to do after eating dinner, she went to lie down. The sheets and pillows, after so many washings, didn't smell like Punk anymore; she wasn't sure if it was comforting not to be reminded of what remained of him every time she slept, or terrifying that his memory was already fading from the house they bought. Shaking her head, she turned on the television and tried to find some sort of sitcom to watch. Maybe a mindless plotline would get her mind off things for a little while.

She ended up falling asleep to a Cosby Show marathon. Her dreams, as always, were haunted by Punk; this time, she imagined him in the delivery room, holding their son for the very first time. _He's perfect, _he told her with a broad, overjoyed smile. _I can't wait to bring him home_. But even while she was asleep, she knew what she was seeing wasn't real. Oh, how she wished this dream would last forever. Maybe if she could just stay asleep, she would be able to hang onto him for a little while longer…

She awoke with a start, shooting up out of bed as a sudden cry reached her ears. "D-Dean?" she called shakily, standing up and poking her head hesitantly through the doorway of her bedroom. "Is that you?" There was no answer. Frowning, she checked the guest room (his room, by now), the kitchen, and the living room- nothing. But when she glanced out the back door, she saw a figure kneeling over by the tree. When it let out another anguished yell, she knew it was Dean. She opened the door slowly, stepping out barefooted onto the grass. "Dean? Is everything ok?"

"No!" he snapped back at her, standing up and crossing the yard to reach her. "Everything's _not _ok, and you know it's not! This isn't- this isn't _working_, AJ! I'm going insane!"

"What do you mean?" she whispered fearfully.

"You know what I mean!" he replied fiercely, gesturing wildly. "You're on the verge of another breakdown, and you know it. You freaked out on Kaitlyn today because yesterday left you so afraid and upset, and me and Colt nearly just beat the shit out of each other!"

"What?" she cried. "Why? What happened?"

"He…" His was silent for a moment. He didn't want to say it, but he knew he had to. "He told me the truth. He told me that I couldn't really take care of you and that I'm not someone you can really lean on, and you know what? He's right! I'm not that guy AJ, and I'm never going to be able to be that guy for you. Let's face it, the only reason I'm even here is because Punk made me promise!" He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but it was too late. He watched with horror as her eyes widened; they quickly filled with tears as she looked up at him, speechless for what felt like an eternity.

"So that's it?" she finally whispered slowly, fists clenched at her sides. Her life since Punk's death now felt like a shattered illusion. Nothing she believed made sense anymore. "You're only here because you feel bound to me out of obligation, because of a promise you wish you never made to Punk?"

He sighed with frustration. "No AJ, that's not what I meant-"

"Then what _did _you mean?" she snapped demandingly.

"I meant…" He threw up his hands angrily, unable to find the words to explain himself. How could he possibly explain to her the complicated measures that ran through his mind, when he wasn't even sure what they meant himself? With an exasperated huff, AJ turned away from him and marched back inside. She nearly slammed the door in his face, but he was quick enough to catch it and follow her into the house. "Hey, get back here! You haven't even let me talk! I'm not done!"

"No, you've done quite enough," she replied stiffly. "Don't worry, Dean. I won't be your charity case anymore. I can't believe I was stupid enough to think you were helping me out because you cared about me. But no, you're only here because guilt is keeping you from breaking a promise."

"That's not true!" he protested. "I promised him, yeah, but I _do _care about you!"

"That's not what you said," she shot back.

"Forget what I said!"

"I can't just _forget_," she argued, "not when you've been lying to me this whole time-"

"Then I'll _make _you forget," he growled, closing the gap between them. He made full use of his height advantage, boring over her with a menacing scowl.

"Yeah?" she challenged, sticking her chin out at him defiantly. Her heart was pounding nervously at what felt like 100 miles an hour (after all, she'd nearly been taken advantage of the last time she dared to provoke a volatile man like this), but she refused to let him intimidate her. "What are you going to do, Dean? Are you gonna yell at me again? Are you going to slap me? Huh?"

"No."

"Then _what_?" she dared. She was terrified of the consequences, but she couldn't stop.

In response, he backed her up against the wall and braced a hand beside her head. They were now a few short inches from each other, and in such closeness AJ finally let the fear she felt show. For the very first time, she was afraid of one of Punk's friends. She gulped audibly, swallowing slowly as she looked up at him. His cold, icy blue eyes were wide and aimed straight at her. What was going through his head right now? She wished she could read his expression, but the only stare she could decipher was green-eyed and permanently closed. _Please don't hurt me, _she thought, staring back at him pleadingly.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he hissed, easily gauging the meaning of her expression. And before he could manage to stop himself, he pressed his mouth firmly against hers.

For a long moment, AJ almost couldn't quite comprehend what was happening; she was too shocked, perhaps, to process the fact that a man who was not the father of her soon to be son was kissing her. But as soon as her senses returned to her, she placed both of her hands on his chest, intent on giving him a rough shove that would send him reeling backwards… but as she prepared to give the weight behind the push, her hands softened against his chest. Something strange was happening, something she had never expected. Her lips felt an uncanny tingling sensation when pressed to his. It sent sparks of warmth into her, warming the ice that had formed inside her.

But all too soon, he backed away from her. "Fuck," he growled, looking away as he raised his fingertips to his mouth. "That was stupid. I'm sorry." Looking back, her eyes were on his again.

"Don't be," she said quietly, grabbing his hand and pulling her back to him. Their lips locked again, and this time she kissed back as her palms landed on soft, smooth cheeks free of the stubble she knew and loved. She almost pulled back then, but harsh mint flavor present on his lips-reminiscent of the gum he chewed constantly out of nervous habit-was new enough to entice her further. She kissed him eagerly and pleadingly; he responded willingly and hungrily, one hand tangling in her hair at the base of her skull as the other arm encircled her lower back. She was back against the wall again, with the only thing separating their bodies being the slight bulge of her protruding stomach.

When he thought about it later, Dean wouldn't be able to say what came over him and what caused him to kiss her. He _couldn't _think about it now, because admitting it was happening would be admitting they were betraying Punk's memory. All he could safely think of at that moment was the way she tasted, and how suddenly he was overcome with the desire to feel soft, smooth skin beneath his hands. He pulled her back from the wall, hoisting her up so she could wrap her legs around him, and carried her to her bedroom. She fell back onto the bed as soon as he released her, and he paused only long enough to kick off his shoes and socks before rushing to reclaim her mouth once more.

"This is wrong," she whispered against his lips.

"I know," he muttered back, pulling up to remove his shirt.

Her hands moved eagerly up and down his ribs, gliding over skin that was even paler than Punk's had been. It was perfect, smooth and unblemished... nothing like the scarred and inked body she was used to… she shook her head almost angrily, moving to banish the thoughts of her former lover. He was dead and gone. She had to accept that. But Dean was here with her now, willing to help her feel whole again.

Even as he pressed rough kisses up and down her throat, he was still quietly justifying his actions to himself. He was stressed and hadn't gotten laid in months, and she was here, vulnerable, willing, beautiful… that's all this was. He was just a guy with needs, and she was a girl who was making himself available to him. Right? That was why he was able to pull her shirt up over her head so quickly and easily, and run his calloused palms over the smooth flesh of her chest, skimming over her nipples and reaching the apex of her slightly rounded stomach…

"AJ, I can't," he announced suddenly, sitting up. He looked down at his hands frantically as though he'd just touched the surface of a hot stove. "I can't do this."

She leaned back on her elbows, staring up at him with dismay. "Why not?"

"I…" he faltered. "You're not mine."

"And when has a girl not being _yours _ever stopped you before?" she shot back angrily, sitting up as well. "What's the matter, Dean? Am I not good enough for you? Not tainted enough like those bar sluts you used to fuck?" She didn't know where this sudden, unprecedented anger came from, but she couldn't even begin to suppress it. She had finally been close to some sort of real emotion again, and he took it away from her. Scowling in disgust, she shoved him off her began searching the bed for her shirt.

"No, that's not it all," he lamented. "Don't be like that. That's not what I mean." He cautiously reached over to touch her stomach. "This, right here, is proof that you're still his."

"No, I'm _not _still his!" she cried, pushing his hand away and standing up. "I'm not his anymore! He's _dead_, Dean! He's dead and he's never coming back! Don't you understand? He's gone! He's gone…" In a fit of angry tears she sat back down on the bed, crying into her hands.

"Fuck," Dean muttered. With a sigh he sat down next to her, pulling her against his chest. "Shhh. It's ok. I'm not mad." He put his arms around her, hugging her awkwardly; he wasn't good at this. All he wanted was for her to stop crying. How was he supposed to comfort her, aside from what he was already doing? A little shamefully, he knew one way he could stop her tears and silence her sobs… but he wasn't sure if he could bring himself to do it. He wanted to give in to his desires so badly, but wouldn't doing that be admitting what he'd been hiding from himself, and admitting that Punk was really gone forever.

_Just let go, _he thought. _I'm a bad person no matter what I do._

He placed 2 careful fingertips beneath her chin, tipping it up so her eyes could meet his. "Hey," he said quietly. He forced his gaze to remain steady and not drift below her face; she was still shirtless, after all.

"What?" she whispered back, her voice devoid of emotion.

"Come here."

Before she could respond, he cupped her cheek and kissed her. He knew she needed a warm, tender, loving touch to soothe her. He knew he certainly wasn't any of those things, but he would have to be that man for her tonight. Drawing her down on the bed, he pressed soft, gentle kisses behind her ear. She let out a soft, pleasurable sigh, holding onto his back for purchase.

AJ didn't know what made him change his mind, or what made her sudden desire for him so insatiable, but she didn't care. He was giving into her now, and that was all that mattered. All she cared about was the way her skin tingled beneath his skillful fingertips as his hands made their way down her body. "Feels… so good…" she murmured, looking at him through half-lidded eyes.

His response was to move further across her neck, one hand slinking down to her shorts. He pulled at the elastic waistband, snapping it back against her waist teasingly before letting his hand creep below it and capturing her mouth again with his. She moaned against his mouth as he parted her silky folds and slipped a finger between them. "Stop teasing me," she begged, her neck arching back and shivers rolling through her whole body.

"Shhh," he breathed into her ear. "Let me take care of you."

He wasn't at all used to this manner. Being gentle and kind with a woman was completely alien to him. His experience generally involved a show of his own dominance, pouring out his anger and fucking her senseless. Not since his last serious girlfriend (after which he'd shut himself off to positive emotion almost completely) had he regarded a woman's body this way. He actually found himself incredibly turned on by her obvious pleasure; the slow rocking of his fingers inside her elicited tiny squeaks and moans from her, and each one made the arousal in his lap throb almost painfully. His careful, torturous manipulations were teasing him almost as badly as they did her.

After what felt like ages of him tormenting her most sensitive nerve endings, he finally pulled his hand back and rolled her shorts and underwear down her golden legs. She looked at him pleadingly, the now empty space between her legs begging to be filled again. He stared back at her as he pulled his jeans down; he couldn't help but smile as an expression of relief spread over her face. He knew what she was expecting, and it had been his intention… but knowing her expectation now put another thought in his head. "Not quite yet," he told her deviously, pressing his palms against her thighs and parting them slowly. The gasp she let out as he lowered his mouth to her heated opening was music to his ears. He ached to be inside her just as badly as she needed him to be, but he had to remind himself that this wasn't just about him; it was about her too, and it was the first time he'd ever recognized that.

Without warning he plunged his tongue into her wet core. She cried out, tangling a hand in tufts of his thin blonde hair. She never imagined, not in her wildest dreams that any other man could make her feel this way. But he was playing her body like a fiddle, sucking hungrily and tasting her very essence. He was relentless, not stopping until she went rigid, moaning and gasping with all the air left in her lungs. She couldn't speak as he sat up, licking his lips savagely as he stared down at her.

"Please…" she whispered breathlessly.

"Are you sure?" he hissed back, leaning over so his mouth was only an inch from her ear. "Are you sure you want this? You won't regret waking up next to me in the morning?"

"No," she admitted honestly, "but I want you now."

That was good enough for him. He reared his hips back, settling into the unfamiliar valley of her thighs as he slowly pushed inside her- not roughly or demandingly, the way he was used to, but gently. His hips found a smooth, even rhythm against hers, pumping in and out of her with a tenderness that surprised him. He'd thought this wouldn't be enough for him, that being unable to ravage her body with intense power and force would be the only way to satisfy him. But the slow motion between their bodies was setting his blood on fire, and she was gasping high notes into his ear as she hung onto his shoulders.

"Oh, Punk," she moaned, her eyes shut tightly. "Phil, please… oh…"

His body stopped moving instantly. He looked down at her, brow narrowed in fury, but as he studied her tightly clenched eyes, he quickly understood she hadn't even realized what she said. He knew he couldn't fault her for this… but even then, he was still overwhelmed with a sudden anger. He thrust inside her again, a little faster this time, building up more and more speed until he had to hold onto the headboard behind her to keep himself steady. With a final growl he released, throwing his head back as he rode out what he had to admit to himself was an intense finish. He pulled out a moment later, rolling over onto his side and facing away from her as he caught his breath.

"Dean?" she asked quietly, sitting up and clutching a sheet to her chest. "What's wrong?"

"You're still his," he replied, still not facing her.

She frowned in confusion. Her whole body still felt like it was vibrating; what had gone wrong? "I don't… understand," she said slowly, reaching to place a hand on his sweaty shoulder.

He pushed her hand away. "You called me by his name," he answered. "You called me Punk."

* * *

**Author's note: Sorry this one took so long to post folks. I was a little hesitant with it because I got a couple of angry reviews before, 1 actually threatening to stop reading if AJ and Dean did anything together. But I realized its silly to be afraid of what some anonymous reviewers will think because I know my faithful readers will stick by me no matter what. Thanks guys, you know who you are.**

**Some special mentions:**

**Red Foxie has the 3rd story in her Soul Searchers series posted. Go take a look!**

**Jean-theGuardian updated Hard to Handle after making us all wait so long, LOL!**

**RunninonCrazy has a recent update for her story Not Weak, Just Stronger.**

**Sorry for anyone I missed. It's pretty late here and I want to get this chapter posted! Love you all and thanks for the support. -MyChaosTheory**


	39. Chapter 39

**Author's note: Hey all! I wanted to thank everyone who reacted maturely to the last chapter and I'm really glad I have you all as readers. Thanks guys. :) Also I hope I'm not confusing anyone with the chapters that jump back and forth. For now just think of them as 2 seperate timelines that are happening independently. When everything catches up to each other, I will let you know but until then if there's any confusion don't hesitate to ask! Thanks again guys! -MyChaosTheory**

* * *

Punk wasn't sure how to feel when he finally got into bed that night, after taking a long shower. He didn't wish to rid himself of Maria; no, she had been truly wonderful to him, and he appreciated how patient she'd been with him. He was hoping the hot water would help to clear his mind and ease him to sleep, so he wouldn't have to face the woman from his dreams. But truthfully, he knew it wouldn't work. He knew as soon as he closed his eyes she would fix him with that hauntingly beautiful gaze. What would he say to her? How would he apologize? What if she…

_Oh come on, _he told himself as he put on a pair of shorts, laying down on his bed and pulling up the blanket. _I'm being ridiculous. I'm actually worrying about whether or not a woman I don't even know for sure exists will forgive me for sleeping with a woman who _does _exist? This is bullshit. I'm going to bed. _He rolled over, trying to get comfortable as he recalled his evening with Maria. God, she was beautiful. And she'd been so patient with him. Did this mean she was his girlfriend now? He wasn't sure. He didn't think that was the way things like this worked, but he would have to sort that out next time he saw her…

He should have known trying to push the thoughts away wouldn't work; that would have been too easy. Not long after he fell asleep, she returned to him just like he knew she would, and she was all there- perfect tresses of brown hair, caramel skin, bubblegum lips. _You have no right to be angry with me, _he snapped at her. _I don't even know who you are._

_I'm not mad, _she told him sadly. Her voice was like a warm blanket welcoming him to much needed rest. _I've never been mad. I'm just disappointed._

_Tell me who you are, _he begged. _Please. You're driving me crazy. I need to know._

_You know me, _she urged. _Just remember. You can do it. All you have to do is remember._

* * *

Punk awoke early the next morning with a splitting headache. _Fuck, I feel horrible, _he thought miserably, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He felt like he hadn't rested for a single second, let alone the several hours of sleep he knew he'd gotten. Groaning, he stood up and went to get dressed. He didn't have long to force himself to eat breakfast (which he wasn't sure he could even stomach with such a headache) before starting work.

"Punk, what's wrong?" Angie asked him as he sat down at the table. "You look…"

"Like you had a really shitty night," Rey finished. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he assured them both, forcing himself to swallow a spoonful of cereal. "I just don't think I slept well. I had a good night, really." He smiled.

Rey grinned. "So it went well with Maria?" he asked.

"Actually, yeah," Punk replied with a laugh. The night had gone extremely well- but he wasn't about to spill the details to Rey and his wife, especially now that Aalyah had just joined them at the table. "I really like her, and she doesn't hate me. Yet, anyway. Thanks for the set-up, guys. I think this might be really good for me." But even as he said it, the words felt strange in his mouth. Every time he imagined seeing Maria again, he felt a twinge of guilt send a surge of pain to his skull. _I must be insane, _he thought as he finished his breakfast. _I'm letting a figment of my imagination cause me actual pain._

He decided the only way to avoid this was to not think about either of the women floating around in his head. He would push them out of his mind completely and focus on work, feeding the animals and tending to the crops. Maybe the hard physical labor would help him to make sense of everything. But he hadn't even finished unloading the bags of feed from above the pen when Rey started to question him again. "All right, now that we aren't in front of sensitive ears, tell me what happened last night," he said with a mischievous grin as he reached for the next bag.

Punk sighed inwardly; clearly, trying to avoid thinking or talking about it wasn't going to happen. "If you really want me to be that blunt about it, we fucked in her truck after dinner," he replied flatly.

Rey chuckled. "Shit, really?" he asked. He didn't seem to mind Punk's blunt manner of speaking. "I didn't think you'd gone that far. But that's good, right? It wasn't a one night stand or anything, was it?"

"No, I don't think either of us wants it to be," Punk answered. "We both made it clear we wanted to see each other again." He gritted his teeth for a moment; the headache was starting to return. "I thought she wouldn't have… fuck, this is weird."

"It's all right, _hermano, _you can tell me," Rey assured him.

"I…" Punk hesitated for another moment. Saying it out loud would feel even stranger than thinking it. "I didn't think she'd want to give me the time of day, you know? I don't remember anything about myself and I thought it would be too weird for her to want to be with a guy who was such a head case. But she's able to look past it. I'm actually looking forward to life now." _Don't think about her, don't think about her, don't fucking think about her… just think about Maria…_

Rey smiled at him. "Why do you think we tried to set her up with you?" he asked. "Angie and I knew she would be able to see you for the guy you are, even if you don't remember it. You've helped out my family a lot, and you deserve to be happy."

"Aw Rey, if I didn't know any better I would say you gave a shit," Punk teased. He laughed and punched his friend and boss playfully in the shoulder and they returned to work. _Just keep working, _he told himself constantly, all day. _Don't think. Don't fucking think._

When they finished everything up for the day, Punk decided he would defy the ghostly thoughts in his head. He wasn't supposed to meet up with Maria again until tomorrow, thinking today's field maintenance would have taken much longer, but his need to block out his mind by working harder than ever had gotten everything done well before he'd originally thought. After showering, he met Rey in the kitchen. "I think I'm going to meet up with Maria," he said, "but I don't really know how to contact her aside from showing up at the orphanage, and that would probably be a little weird."

"Just call her from our home phone," Rey told him. "We have her number. It's on that list on the fridge."

Punk thanked him and went to grab the phone off the counter, but he hesitated when it came to actually punching the number in. Again, he felt that overwhelming guilt in the back of his mind. A cruel voice he didn't recognize told him to just break it off with her, to save her from the pain he somehow knew he would inevitably cause. _I'm clearly too insane for a relationship, _he thought. _I should just make this easier for both of us and… no! Fuck that! Stay out of my head. I can do whatever I want._

"Hey, Maria? Yeah, it's Punk. Want to get dinner again tonight?"

* * *

Over the next several weeks, Punk managed to ignore the dreams that tormented him at night for long enough during the day to allow his relationship with Maria to grow. He loved being around her- whenever he was feeling insecure about his lack of identity, or felt like his continuing presence was imposing on Rey's family, she always there to reassure him that everything was going to be ok. She was patient and kind with him, accepting of his shortcomings and apprehensiveness. Even though he was only a memory-wiped farm hand living with a poor family in a small Mexican town, he often found himself counting his blessings when it came to her. Somehow, a woman capable of handling a man like him managed to be right here, in a town (presumably) far from home, and she was falling hard for him.

But part of him still felt like he was betraying someone else, even as he grew closer to beautiful charity worker. Every time they slept together (which turned out to be quite often; he found he had an almost insatiable appetite for sex, and she was very willing to feed it), his dreams returned to him tenfold, and they were always followed by the same splitting headache. Every time, the woman always expressed that she wasn't angry with him; she would only beg him to remember her, and come back. _But how can I remember if you won't tell me who you are?_ He would call to her. She would never respond to his question, and would merely place her hand on his cheek.

And when he woke up, he could still feel her ghostly touch on his skin. Every time.

"Hey, what's up with you today?" Maria asked him one Sunday afternoon. They were having a picnic style lunch on the edge of a secluded field on the outside of town- it had been her idea. They sat together on a large blanket, a basket full of chips and sandwiches lying in the middle. "You've been pretty quiet. Is everything all right?"

Punk glanced up from the uneaten sandwich he'd been staring at. "Huh?" he asked distractedly, blinking. "Oh. I'm fine." That wasn't quite the truth- he had been in a fog all day so far. His dream the previous night had been particularly vivid. It wasn't the normal brief meeting with the mysterious woman, the way it usually was. Instead, he found himself sitting with her in an unfamiliar living room.

_"Are you scared about the future?" she asked._

_"Of course I am," he replied. "It would be stupid not to. A lot of things are going to change pretty soon."_

_"But everything's going to be okay, right? Because you're here." She smiled._

_"Oh, you give me too much credit. I'm just a kid from..."_ His own voice suddenly became too quiet for him to hear what he was saying.

_"Hey, watch it mister," she said teasingly. "That's the… you're talking about!" _Again, silence. Why couldn't he hear everything that was being said? This was infuriating.

_"All I'm saying as I'm no prince," he told her with a smile._

_"Well that doesn't matter, because all you need to know is that I'll always…"_

The rest was a blur. But sitting in that room with that woman and talking casually with her seemed so warm, comfortable and familiar to him that he wanted to scream. Where was that room? What was the future she was afraid of, and how did it include him? And it still raised the most important questions of all- who was this woman? Was she someone important from his past, or someone his infuriatingly blank mind had conjured up out of hopelessness and desperation?

"Punk?" Maria prodded, squeezing his arm and looking up at him with concern. "You're doing it again. Drifting off into la-la land. I'm worried about you. Are you sure everything's ok?"

He plastered the most genuine smile he could muster on his face. "I'm positive," he replied. "Let's finish our lunch. Are you done yet? Because I'm ready for dessert."

She frowned. "Well, I didn't pack anything else-"

He cut her off with a firm kiss, pushing her down onto the blanket.

"Oh, that's what you meant," she said with a chuckle, shivering as he peppered her neck with rough kisses. "God, you're like a horny teenage boy sometimes. I love it."

He didn't respond; he was too overcome with the sudden need for her body. He knew this action would result in punishment in the form of guilt-ridden dreams, but he didn't care. The woman from his subconscious infuriated him with her presence and her refusal to reveal her identity to him, and even though he wasn't sure if she was real or not, some strange part of him knew that sleeping with his girlfriend would upset her. Maybe by some crazy happenings in his twisted mind, punishing her like she continually punished him would get her to reveal her secrets.

It had only been a month, but already this felt like an old dance to him- yanking her shorts down, unzipping his jeans, and putting on a condom before pushing into her with a force that drove them both wild. She grasped fistfuls of the scratchy blanket beneath him as he held onto her shoulders, pumping inside her like a piston. He refused to let a beautiful day like this be ruined for him by guilt, at least not right now. Right now he would let his girlfriend's desperate cries of pleasure fulfill him and take his mind far, far away. With Maria, he could be the man this town was telling him he was, and not the man the woman from his dreams begged him to remember.


	40. Chapter 40

AJ was utterly stunned by Dean's revelation. "Oh, Dean, I'm so sorry," she lamented. "I didn't… I didn't even realize… I was caught up in the moment… I wasn't thinking…" She reached to touch his bare, lightly sweaty back again, but again he shook her hand away.

"Don't worry about it," he grumbled as he sat up, still facing away from her. "It's not your fault. I shouldn't have expected anything different. You're knocked up with his kid. Why would fucking me make you forget about that?" Sighing heavily, he ran a frustrated hand through his hair before standing up and reaching for his previously discarded jeans. "I've gotta get out of here."

"Dean, no," she begged with alarm, clutching the sheet she held to her chest in panic. "Please, don't go. I… I don't want to be alone! I'm sorry!"

"How many times do I have to tell you, it's not your fault!" he snapped, zipping up his jeans and pulling on his shirt. "I just can't fucking deal with this shit right now." He walked out of the room despite her protests, trying his best to ignore her cries of apologies as he grabbed his wallet and keys. He knew exactly what he wanted to do- he wanted to get so incredibly wasted that he didn't remember a single thing about the past year of his life. He wanted to obliterate her from his memory, if only temporarily.

"Don't leave, please!" AJ cried, even as she heard the front door slam. "I don't want to be left alone again. I can't be left again!" But he was already gone, taken off into the late night. All she could do now was sob pointlessly into her pillow, mourning 2 losses… and one of them she could have prevented. Not only had she spitefully betrayed Punk's memory in a desperate attempt to feel real again, she had sent Dean's mind for such a spin he couldn't even bare to be around her right now. What had she done to these people? And not just Punk and Dean- all of them! Colt, Roman, Seth, and Kaitlyn too. All of their lives had been thrown for a loop because she had simply been there.

"This is all my fault," she muttered, eyes dried by now. "I fucked everything up for all of you, just like I always do." She looked down at her stomach, hesitant to lay her hand on it. _Will I wreck your life too, little boy? _She thought. _Because it seems like I can only hurt the people I love._

* * *

Dean couldn't remember the last time he slept in his own apartment. It had to have been before leaving to rescue AJ, surely. He didn't know why he still paid to rent the damn place, when he hadn't even so much as stepped foot in the place since a week or 2 after returning from Mexico. He didn't own much, and most of his belongings he'd brought over and stored in the guest room at AJ's house weeks ago. The studio apartment held only a sparse amount of furniture now, much of it covered in a thin layer of dust. He wondered if he still had beer left… God, he hoped so. There had to be… yes! He still had a 6 pack, sitting alone in his otherwise startlingly empty fridge. He grabbed it and hauled the cardboard container over to the couch and sank back on the couch, popping one open with one hand and reaching for his TV remote with the other. But there was only static when he turned it on.

"Right," he muttered aloud to the empty room. "Didn't pay the cable bill." He sighed, glancing down at his beer. "Oh well. I guess it's just you and me." He drained almost a third of the bottle in one sip, letting out a long sigh after swallowing the amber liquid. It had been too long since he'd last had an evening of drinking to himself- AJ didn't like him keeping beer in the house, out of respect to Punk. He accepted that, and the only time he ever got the chance to have a drink was with the guys after gathering at Colt's house for business purposes. But even those outings were becoming fewer and farther between, as tensions between himself and his friends were becoming more and more strained.

_Fuck just forget about that, _he thought irritatingly, tipping the bottle back to his lips again. _Goddamn, this tastes amazing._

Sometime later (he didn't know how long; 6 beers in, he'd lost all sense of time), he had a decent buzz going, but it was good enough, because he still had flashes of AJ sobbing every time he blinked. He needed more alcohol, but he was definitely too drunk to drive… damn it! He always got himself into these situations. He should have picked up more on his way home, but he hadn't been thinking about that when he got in the car. His choices were to either wait until everything wore off, or walk to the nearest liquor store in the rain that had just begun.

"Damn it," he grumbled, grabbing his keys off the counter. He slammed the door on the way out.

* * *

"Chinese food was a great idea," Seth remarked as he opened his container of sweet and sour chicken. "I love this stuff. And this place delivers, so we didn't have to go out in this storm." Looking at Kaitlyn, he frowned. "But how the hell do you use those things?"

Kaitlyn looked up from her container of beef and broccoli. She had a piece of meat expertly clasped between two chopsticks. "What do you mean?" she asked, smiling before lifting the piece to her mouth.

"You know what I mean," he replied pointedly, jabbing his fork in her direction. "The chopsticks. I'm like an idiot with those damn things. Teach me."

"Not tonight Seth," she said with a chuckle. "I just want to enjoy my food without a mess. We both had sort of a rough day today."

"Yeah," he agreed with a small sigh, taking a bite of his chicken; they were both at odds with their friends right now. He and the guys had ended their meeting after Dean stormed off, all of them too wired up to continue discussing business anymore. He was glad to be able to relax with his girlfriend now, but thinking again of how fractured everyone's lives were put a dent in his decent mood again.

"Oh baby," she said sadly, stroking his cheek, "I didn't mean to upset you again. I just can't stop thinking about it. I mean, with AJ freaking out on me today and Dean and Colt nearly killing each other…" In spite of herself, she laughed. "I haven't dealt with this much drama since high school."

"It feels that way, doesn't it?" he asked, managing a smile. "Well-" He was cut off by the sound of furious banging on the door. "Oh hell. I guess I'll get it." He put his Chinese food container down on the coffee table and went to the door, glancing through the peephole before gasping and opening the door. "Fuck Dean, what the hell are you doing out here?"

His friend was soaked, completely drenched to the bone. "I uh, I think I did something bad," Dean muttered, his voice slightly slurred.

"Come inside!" Seth demanded, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him in.

"What's going on?" Kaitlyn asked, heading over to the door. "Oh! Dean, you're soaked. I'll go get a towel." She hurried off to the bathroom.

"I think I fucked up, Seth," Dean said quietly, using Seth for leverage as he slipped off his shoes.

"What, man?" Seth asked, eyes narrowed in concern as Dean leaned on him unsteadily. "Wait, are you drunk? You walked here, didn't you? That's why you're wet."

"I downed a 6 pack at my apartment and walked to the corner to buy more," he explained, nearly stumbling but managing to get his sopping wet socks off, too. "I bought a 40 ounce and drank it all on the way back. But I ended up here somehow. I uh, I don't know why… I think I cut my hand when I smashed that bottle too…" He held up his shivering, bloody hand.

"Fuck. Babe, get the first aid kit too!" Seth called. "All right. I would never say this under any other circumstances, but you should probably take off your shirt so you don't freeze to death." He sighed awkwardly. "I'll help you. Come on."

A few minutes later, Dean was sitting on the couch wrapped in a towel, his cut up hand disinfected and bandaged by Seth. Kaitlyn had gotten him a cup of coffee, but it remained untouched on the table. "Tell us what happened," Kaitlyn urged. "Why aren't you at home with AJ? Did something happen?"

Dean sighed heavily, hugging the towel tighter around him. "You're not going to like this," he murmured. "So uh, on a scale of one to 10, how bad of an idea is it to fuck your dead friend's girl?"

* * *

Dean didn't return for the next few days, and during that time AJ was completely alone. It reminded her of her time being a captive of Alberto Del Rio, but this situation felt even worse. This time, she had the ability to contact other people, and they could contact her, but no one did. Was Kaitlyn still mad at her? AJ wasn't sure, but she was too afraid to call her best friend. She was too afraid to talk to anyone, in case the truth about what she did would come tumbling out of her mouth. She forced herself into solitude, and remained alone with her own thoughts and the growing baby in her stomach.

"Oh Punk, I'm so sorry," she whispered as she stared down at the picture by her bedside. He looked so happy, vibrant, and _alive _in that photo… why couldn't he be here now and assure her that everything was going to be ok? "I just want to feel whole again, baby…"

"I'm sorry I can't do that for you," Dean said sadly.

AJ quickly put the photo down and turned around. "Dean?" she cried. "Oh my God! You've been gone for days, I was so worried!"

"I went on a pretty bad bender," he admitted. "I got really fucked up while I tried to figure all of this shit out. I even wandered drunk over to Seth and Kaitlyn's and ended up telling them everything."

"You _what_?" she shrieked. "Dean, how could you tell them?" No wonder Kaitlyn hadn't even tried to talk her down or reconcile. She was probably furious.

"I didn't mean to!" he snapped. "I was drunk and it slipped out, ok? They're not mad, but I asked them not to talk to you about it until I had the chance to. But they're not what's important right now. We really need to talk." He sighed angrily. "I'm not good at this shit so I'll just come right out with it. I'm sorry I ran off on you. We have to… figure this out or something."

"But what are we supposed to do?" she demanded. "This just seems so wrong…"

"It is," he agreed. "I feel like I'm betraying him, too. Look, I don't care how awkward this gets. Yeah, my dick's been inside you. So what? Big deal. I'm still going to keep my promise and take care of you. You and that kid need me, and… damn it… I think I need you too."

She bit her lip, looking back down at the picture. "Would he hate us?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I don't know what's going to happen now, so let's not even pretend there's any sort of 'us' right now. Let's just take it one day at a time, all right?"

She didn't answer for a moment, eyes still locked to the picture. Swallowing hard, she opened the drawer on her bedside table, put the frame in it, and closed it. "He's gone," she whispered.

"Yeah," he said with a nod. "He's gone."


	41. Chapter 41

**Author's note: Hey everyone! I know a lot of you have been begging for Punk to remember and for him and AJ to get back together. There's been a lot of in between and it's been awhile since they've seen each other but remember, this IS a Punklee story and things will start picking up again soon, I promise! Thanks for sticking with me in the mean time.**

* * *

"So what are you supposed to do for month anniversaries, anyway?" Punk asked with a sigh. "I don't even know how long it's been."

"Do you _not _know how long you've been with your very own girlfriend?" Aalyah gasped, as though he'd committed the greatest sin in the world. "Boys are just _awful_!" She shook her head disappointedly at him. "It's been 5 months since your first date. Pass me the blue?"

He grabbed the blue marker out of the box and passed it across the table to the little girl. "It's a good thing I've got you," he said with a chuckle, "or I wouldn't even know what day it was!" He continued to draw aimlessly on the paper she provided for him as he thought back on the past 5 months of his life. He led a simple existence, working on the farm with the Mysterio family and trying his best to keep his girl happy- his wonderful girlfriend Maria. He always felt so calm with her. She never failed to put his mind at ease, but he felt terrible that he couldn't return the gesture to her that she wanted him to so badly.

He knew it bothered her that he couldn't say he loved her back. She first said it a couple of months ago, and at first he brushed it off as a heat of the moment utterance, overwhelmed by passion. But she said it again the next day, and he found himself at a loss for words. He told her what he thought at first was the truth- that while he definitely knew he felt something real and intense for her, he wasn't even sure he knew what love really was, because he didn't even remember ever feeling it before. She accepted this for now, but the other reason behind it soon became too clear to ignore. He loved the woman from his dreams, too.

That had to be it. As he fell for Maria during the day, at night his mind showed him more and more of the woman whose name he didn't know. He was sure falling for an imaginary girl meant he was losing what little of his mind he had, but he felt like each dream was bringing her closer to her- dancing and laughing in a kitchen, lying in bed together, playing with a tiny gray kitten… it all seemed so familiar to him, even though he had no memories her or these places. And he still didn't know her name.

He hadn't told anyone about the dreams, and he wasn't about to let Maria know she had to share his heart with another woman who didn't exist. He would have to hold his guilt in until he could figure out what was going on in his head. In the meantime, he had to ignore the crazy thoughts and figure out what to do for his (apparently) 5 month anniversary with Maria. He couldn't take her to dinner or buy her a present- he didn't have a single penny to his name, because he refused to let Rey pay him anything when he already lived in the man's house rent free. He'd already skirted by this whole time letting Maria pay for everything, which often left him feeling emasculated. He couldn't let this date go by, too.

"So what are you gonna get her?" Aalyah asked suddenly, interrupting his thoughts.

"Oh uh, I don't know," he admitted, putting the marker he'd been twirling in his hand down. "I don't really have the money to get her anything."

"You can use my allowance," she offered, brightening up.

He smiled broadly at her, but shook his head. "I couldn't take your allowance. Thanks though."

"I could take Dominick's! Then it wouldn't be mine!"

He couldn't help laughing even harder than earlier. "Definitely not," he replied. "I think he would hate me even more than he already does."

"I don't think he hates you that much anymore," she told him. "He likes Maria and he's happy you make her happy. But don't tell him I told you! Then he'll pull my hair." She frowned for a moment, then smiled. "You could give her my drawing!" She eagerly passed the paper she'd been working on across the table. It was a beautiful but clearly a little girl's work of art, a brightly colored rendition of a sunset over the whole farm.

"This is beautiful, Aalyah," he said with a smile, "but why don't we put it on the fridge instead?"

* * *

"You're stressed," Rey said flatly as he entered the living room, where Punk was sitting on the couch, deep in thought.

"Huh?" Punk muttered, looking up. "I'm fine. What do you mean?"

"Bullshit. I can tell when you're stressed." Rey sat down next to him. "Tell me what's going on. Isn't your big dinner with Maria tonight?"

"That's just it," Punk admitted. "I don't know what the hell I'm going to do. Angie helped me cook dinner and I'm bringing it to her favorite picnic spot, but beyond that I'm clueless. I have nothing to give her."

"Ah, gifts aren't important," Rey assured him. "She'll just want to be around you."

"Oh is that right?" Punk asked with a laugh. "If you showed up on your anniversary without a gift for Angie, you really don't think you'd be sleeping on the couch?"

"Maybe," Rey agreed, "but we've been married for 16 years. You've been with Maria for… how long?"

"5 months," Punk told him. "Aalyah was the one who calculated the time for me." He chuckled for a moment, then sighed. "I guess it's not that big of a deal, but isn't this sort of thing major for women? I'm not sure if I was a classy guy in a past life, but I'm trying to be now."

"You could tell her you love her," Rey suggested with a wink. "Best gift of all."

At this, Punk's eyes widened. "I, well, I mean that sounds like a good idea but…" He stumbled helplessly over his words. This wasn't the first time he'd run into such a situation where he was torn between keeping his secret and spilling the beans about what went on while he slept… but he was usually cornered by Maria, not Rey. And Rey was far more pressing than Maria was.

Rey raised his eyebrows. "Do you mean to say you _don't _love her?" he questioned poignantly.

There it was. How would he explain himself now? He didn't want to, but he couldn't very well tell the man he was done talking. Rey rescued him from certain death, nursed him back to health and gave him a job and a home- not to mention setting him up with Maria in the first place. If anyone had a right to know what was going on in his head, it was Rey. "It's… complicated," he answered finally. With another awkward sigh, he ran a nervous hand over his close-cropped hair. "You're either going to think I'm insane or a liar when I tell you."

Rey only laughed. "You're talking to the guy who's employing and sheltering an amnesiac American he found in a field and knows nothing about," he reminded Punk. "Try me."

"All right," Punk replied, taking one last deep breath. He had no choice now but to tell. "For months I've been having dreams about a girl. She seems so familiar, but I have no idea who she is and I don't know her name. I dream about her every night. I think…" He bit his lip. "This is really tough to say, because it sounds so stupid in my head."

"Out with it, amigo," Rey urged. "Come on. I won't laugh."

"I think I'm in love with her," Punk blurted out, before his apprehensiveness could stop him. "It seems crazy, because I've never met her and I don't even know if she's real or not, but she seems so damn real in my dreams and it feels like I'm living out a completely different life with someone who might be from my past or someone I just made up. It almost feels… wrong, because during the day I have Maria, and then I fall asleep and this other woman is there."

To his surprise, Rey understood instantly. "You love both of them," he said.

Punk nodded. "I can't tell Maria. She would be heartbroken. And she might think I'm crazy, too."

"You're not crazy," Rey told him firmly. "You don't have to worry about that. Your head's had a rough time. She might be someone from your past. She could have been a girlfriend, or just a friend you liked, or maybe someone you met right before your accident who your brain latched onto. It doesn't make you a bad person to be confused and in love with two ladies at the same time."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Do what feels natural," Rey replied. "Just don't break her heart, or I'll break you." He smiled.

"Then you'd better keep what I told you a secret!" Punk insisted.

"Of course I will," Rey assured him. "Relax. Now go get ready."

* * *

"This is so cute and romantic," Maria exclaimed, leaning her head on Punk's shoulder. They were sitting in the trunk of her pickup truck, leaning back against the cab after heaving finished the meal he brought. "I love watching the sunset with you." Then she laughed. "God, that sounded so high school prom date of me. Sometimes I feel like I'm 16 when I'm with you."

He chuckled, kissing the top of her head. "I wish I could say the same, but I don't remember being 16 or even how long ago that was for me," he said, then frowned slightly; he wished he knew how old he was. But he quickly shook off the disappointing feeling. "But I'm sure whatever happened then was nowhere near as good as what's happening now." After his conversation with Rey, he felt much better about this evening. It had gone well so far. He planned on telling her two very important things she needed to know, and soon.

She smiled, giving him a quick kiss. "We can make up a random date to be your birthday and celebrate it soon," she told him. "What do you think? 30 sound good?"

He laughed. "I think I'm probably older than that," he replied. "We should let Aalyah make up the date and my age. She's good with numbers."

"Sounds good to me." She turned back to the rapidly descending sun, silent and content to be in his arms. She didn't expect anything flashy for their 'anniversary'- she didn't much see the point of celebrating anniversaries for anything less than a year, but after jokingly bringing it up a week ago, he insisted. She enjoyed what he planned, a simple evening together over a home cooked meal. There was only one more thing that could make the night better…

"Hey," he said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Yeah?" She turned her head to look up at him again.

"I have two things to tell you. One you'll like, and one you might not." He exhaled slowly. "For the sake of ending on a good note, I think I'll tell you the second one first." He told her a brief version of the tale about his dreams- how they started, that he wasn't sure what they meant, or if she really existed, and (a little shamefully) leaving out the part that would hurt her the most.

"I don't know what to make of that," she said slowly when he was finished. "It almost sounds like you're scared to find out who she is."

"I am," he admitted. "I don't even know if she's real. But I know this- _you're _real. You're here with me right now, and you've helped me heal in more ways then I knew I needed. I love what I have with you, Maria. I love you."

"Oh, you finally said it back!" she whispered tearfully, throwing her arms around his neck. "I love you too, Punk. I love you so much."

He wrapped his arms around her as she clung to him. He was glad she was happy, and saying it felt good and true to him, but he couldn't help but also feel the twinge of guilt in the back of his mind, because he knew she wasn't the only one he loved. The woman from his dreams felt just as real as the one in his arms, and he loved her just as much. And just like that, he hated himself again.


	42. Chapter 42

Dean expected him and AJ to be tiptoeing around each other in the near future, following their awkward make up. In fact, he almost would have preferred it- ignoring each other would be far simpler than handling the emotional recourse of dealing with what they did. But only a day after he returned from his drunken escapade, she tumbled into his lap while he was watching TV in his room. She attacked him like a firecracker, kissing him fiercely and tugging urgently at the waistband of his pants. Before he could even question her, she was on him. He could only dig his nails into her thighs, holding on for the ride as sweet skin enveloped him and drew him torturously into submission. He was still gasping for breath, utterly spent and satisfied when she rolled over to lay beside him.

"That… that was… interesting," he said when he finally got his wind back, looking over at her.

"That's it?" she questioned, glancing back at him. "Interesting?"

"No no, it was good," he assured her quickly. "Great, actually. I'm just… confused. I didn't think you would want to do anything with me."

"I don't know what I want," she admitted quietly.

_Then why the fuck did you just ride me like that? _He thought, but he forced himself to keep his anger at bay. She had every reason to be confused, and he had no right to demand anything out of her while he was making himself part of her uncertainty. "That's fine," he replied. "Like I said, one day at a time."

* * *

AJ was absolutely bursting with the need to talk about what was going on with her life. She desperately missed her best friend and confidant, and felt terrible about what happened between herself and Kaitlyn. When AJ called her she apologized almost as quickly- it turned out that she missed her just as much. A few days after Dean returned Kaitlyn came to the house and they embraced in forgiveness.

"I'm so sorry," AJ sobbed into her shoulder. "You're a great friend and I blew up on you for no reason."

"I shouldn't have questioned that you were taking care of yourself," Kaitlyn replied, holding the tiny pregnant woman close. "I'm sorry, too."

The friends held each other for a moment longer before finally separating, chuckling at each other as they dried their tears and sat on the couch. "I have so much to tell you," AJ blurted out. "I know you already know, but I've just been so scared and confused. I don't know what to do! You don't think I'm a terrible person for all of this, do you?"

"Of course not!" Kaitlyn assured her. "I was a little shocked when Dean told us, and Seth was really mad at him. He actually nearly beat the crap out of Dean even though he was completely wasted, because he thought he was taking advantage of you. But we both calmed down when he told us it was a mutual thing. So I'm surprised, yeah, but neither of us think either of you are terrible people. It's natural this would happen." She hesitated. "Colt is pretty upset, though. Seth ended up telling him and Roman, and even though he explained everything Colt is still convinced Dean is being a scumbag."

"I can't believe this is happening!" AJ cried, slamming her fist angrily on the coffee table. "They all used to be best friends, you know that? Dean, Seth and Roman have known Colt and Punk since they were 16. Now they're at each other's throats because I'm such an idiot!"

"Would you stop blaming yourself already?" Kaitlyn snapped, smacking AJ's hand. "Not everything is your fault, you know. The boys are complete idiots. They're the ones fighting for no reason. But don't worry about it. Seth and Roman are going to _make _those assholes apologize to each other."

* * *

"Can't I just email Colt the damn purchase reports?" Dean growled as Roman pulled the car into the driveway. "I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to see me."

"I don't care," Roman replied flatly. "We have work to do and you guys need to stop being dickheads already. This shit is ridiculous. Now get out of the car before I pull you out by your hair. And remember, I'm stronger than you." He turned off the engine and got out.

Dean grumbled irritably. Roman had been picking at him all day so far about patching things up with Colt. They'd been such a tight knit group for over a decade, the Samoan reminded him, and they'd been through so much, weathering through the death of their leader. To let something like this come between all of them now would be a stain on Punk's memory, Roman said.

_Yeah, _Dean thought bitterly as he got out of the car reluctantly. _And me taking over for fucking his girlfriend isn't? This is so fucked up. _But the sensible part of him knew Roman was right. They couldn't go on like this. He had to make things right with Colt, no matter how hard headed they both were.

"Hey," Colt called over the edge of his laptop, not looking up as Roman and Dean entered the house. Seth sat beside him, flipping through a box of promo cards they were sending out for free with each order. "Did you tell Dean to email me those reports? I need-" He paused as he looked up, seeing the man in question was in fact in the room. "You son of a bitch." He closed his computer and stood up.

"Hands down, buddy," Dean advised coolly. "I'm not here to fight."

"_Buddy_?" Colt snapped. "You can't just come in here and act like that after-"

"After what, I challenged your manhood?" Dean shot back coolly. He knew he was here to make things better, but he couldn't help but take a jab at Colt when the man struck first.

"Look at yourselves," Roman demanded, before either of them could open their mouths to argue again. "When have we _ever _been at each other's throats like this? Over something so stupid?"

"It's not stupid, Roman," Colt said brusquely. "Dean is sleeping with Punk's girlfriend, and all of you fuckers are just ok with it!"

"She isn't Punk's girlfriend anymore," Dean pointed out. "Punk's gone. We all loved him and wish he didn't die, but those are the facts. He's _dead_, and we have to accept it. All I'm trying to do is take care of AJ like he asked me to."

"Yeah?" Colt asked with a harsh laugh. "I don't think he'd think 'taking care' of her involved taking advantage of her to get your dick wet!"

"Hey, fuck off!" Dean snapped. "She wanted it, too! I'm not taking advantage of her. It just happened!"

"Oh, please," Colt laughed again. "She's pregnant and she lost her boyfriend. You don't think she's feeling vulnerable? You're _taking advantage of her_!"

"I am?" Dean challenged. "Then ask her why she jumped me the other night! I guess she was just feeling _vulnerable _and decided my dick would make it all better, huh?"

"Oh both of you, shut the fuck up!" Roman shouted, his thunderous voice enough to silence them both. "Now I know how Punk felt, trying to mediate you guys when you act like children."

"I never envied him," Seth muttered in agreement, standing to join the tallest member of their group.

"Look," Roman said flatly. "You're both acting ridiculous and I'm sick of this. Colt, I know you're upset because Punk didn't ask you to take care of AJ, but you can't take that out on Dean. That's not his fault."

"Besides," Seth added, "did you ever consider he was trying to take a load off your shoulders? You looked out for Punk and saved his ass since you guys were kids. Maybe he didn't want to give you the burden of looking after his girl and his kid."

Colt sighed, turning away from them all. "I don't know," he muttered. "Yeah, I felt betrayed. So fucking what? It just seems so weird, man. It feels like you're betraying him, and that _I'd _be betraying him by going along with it."

"You wouldn't," Dean assured him. "We're not even _together_, we're just… fuck, I don't know what we're doing. We're just going along with it. It took her a long time to accept that Punk isn't coming back, and it took me awhile too. It doesn't mean we're betraying him to move on with our lives and be happy." He laughed. "Besides, everyone needs to get laid sometimes. Even pregnant chicks."

"Hey, whatever bro," Colt said with a shrug. "Just don't get in over your head here."

"Ok, so are you guys done trying to beat the shit out of each other?" Roman asked. "Because I'm getting pretty tired of it and we have work to do."

"I guess so," Dean answered.

"Sure," Colt added. "But question my manhood again and I'll make sure you need to be spoon fed for a week, got it you little punk in training?"

"Yeah, yeah. Got it."

* * *

"I hate feeling so big," AJ moaned. "Look at me! I'm a whale!"

"You're still not even that big," Dean pointed out. "Besides, it's just your stomach anyway. The rest of you is exactly the same as it was before. Quit freaking out about it!"

"I can't see my feet, so that means I'm big!" she snapped. "Go get me a glass of water."

"Geez, so demanding," he muttered, getting up off the couch.

"You know you're going to get bigger," Kaitlyn reminded her from the kitchen, where she was making lunch. "You've still got another month to go before you pop."

"Don't remind me," AJ muttered miserably.

It had been 4 months since everyone had finally reached a state of peace with each other, and AJ was now 8 months pregnant. She felt enormous, even though her doctor kept insisting the baby wasn't growing on schedule. None of her tests showed any reason behind her son's lack of growth, which worried both medical personnel and all of AJ's friends. But aside from putting her on a more enriched diet and giving her more supplements, there was nothing they could do but wait. She often lay awake at night with her hand on her stomach, wondering why her baby boy was still so small.

As Dean returned with her glass of water, she couldn't help but smile at him. For all his roughness, the man had been a godsend when it came to taking care of her in her later stages of pregnancy. He attended to her every need and took care of everything in the house (including the pets) without a second thought. While both of them refused to quantify their 'relationship' with any sort of title, but they had continued sleeping together up until a couple of months ago, when AJ decided she felt too disgusted with her body for anything sexual. But he still slept in her bed, allowing her to cling to him whenever she had nightmares (and she often did).

She still thought about Punk, every day. Not having pictures of him up around the house helped ease her sadness, but they didn't banish the images of him that remained at the forefront of her mind. His was the last face she saw before she fell asleep, and the first she thought of when she woke up. All of the memories swirling around in her head made her even more confused than she'd been months ago. She knew she would always love Punk; he was the father of her child and the man who healed her heart when she previously thought it to be irreparably damaged. But knowing she still held tightly to her love for him left her at a loss for what to feel for Dean. She did love him, but she didn't know _how_. Was it just platonic and out of gratitude for all he'd sacrificed for her, or was it a romantic love that had grown out of their grief? She wasn't sure, and they definitely hadn't talked about it.

One thing they _had _talked about (along with the rest of the guys) was what to name the baby. Colt suggested she name him after Punk, but AJ didn't like the idea of holding her son to the name of the dad he would never meet. For the last several months, they had been throwing names around constantly, when Seth finally mentioned that AJ fell in love with. She was firm on that name, as well as making Punk's name the baby's middle name.

"Just hurry up already," AJ muttered impatiently, taking a sip of her water and putting her hand on her stomach. "I want to meet you, baby boy."

"Oh hush," Kaitlyn said as she came to the coffee table with a tray of sandwiches. "He'll get here when he gets here. Now eat up."

"Oh thanks, I'm starving!" Dean exclaimed, snatching a sandwich off the tray before AJ could. "Hey, you snooze you lose. I wanted the one with ham."

"Well, I wanted the turkey anyway!" AJ shot back, sticking out her tongue playfully as she grabbed her sandwich. "I-" She paused, frowning suddenly and dropping her sandwich. "I feel weird… ow… _ow_!"

"What's going on?" Dean asked frantically, wrought with alarm.

"I… I think… I think…" AJ began, but she couldn't even finish.

"Oh God, the cushion is wet!" Kaitlyn exclaimed. "I think your water just broke.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Dean cried. "Is she going into labor or something?"

No one spoke for a long moment as AJ clenched her eyes shut, clutching the cushions on either side. A wave of intense, ripping pain tore through her body for an agonizing moment. Never in all her life had she felt such pain before. "I… I think that was a contraction," she squeaked out, gasping for breath.

"We have to get to the hospital!" Kaitlyn said urgently, standing up. "Come on, AJ. Grab my hand."

"He can't come now!" AJ cried in a panic. "I'm only 8 months along!"

"Well, it looks like he's not waiting," she replied. "Now let me help you up!"

"Oh fuck, I'm not ready for this," Dean muttered, his knees bouncing up and down nervously. "I'm gonna fucking puke. I can't do this. What am I supposed to do?"


	43. Chapter 43

"Stop blabbering over there and go get her bag," Kaitlyn replied calmly as she led AJ to the door. She was surprised she had to be the voice of reason. "And your keys, unless you're too freaked out to drive."

Dean quickly jumped up from the couch, nearly slipping on the fallen sandwich. He caught himself on the edge of the coffee table and stood up, quickly collecting the fallen meal to throw it away before running to AJ's closet. He grabbed the small duffel bag she'd packed a month ago. It contained clothes for herself and the baby to take with her to the hospital. When she first packed he scoffed at her, thinking it was too soon to worry about that, but now he was glad she'd thought ahead. He nearly forgot to snatch his keys and AJ's wallet off the kitchen counter as he ran out, and joined Kaitlyn and a shivering AJ outside in the driveway.

"How is she?" Dean asked as he locked the front door, rushing to unlock the car.

"_She _is right here and can hear you just fine!" AJ snapped as Kaitlyn helped her into the back seat. "And I'm in a hell of a lot of pain! Let's hurry up already!" _I can't believe this is happening, _she thought miserably. _You're not due yet! You have to grow more! _"Ow! Ah! Damn it! This hurts so bad!"

Kaitlyn climbed in next to her and held her hand while Dean hopped into the driver's seat. He was sure he broke about a dozen traffic laws as he raced to the hospital, all the while listening to AJ attempt to breathe (and swear) through her contractions. It took only 7 minutes to get there as opposed to the usual 15, and he pulled up to the emergency room entrance with a screech. "Can someone help me?" Dean called through the open doors into the ER lobby as he jumped out of the car and opened the door to the back seat. "My… um…" Fuck, what the hell was he supposed to call her? His buddy's girl? His friend? His… "My girlfriend is having a baby!" Had he not been so terrified at the moment, he would have been able to think about how referring to AJ as his girlfriend felt.

"All right, calm down," a nurse told him, rushing over with a wheelchair. "Let's get her up to labor and delivery, then. Where's the mom to be?"

Kaitlyn helped an angrily cursing AJ out of the car and into the wheelchair. "I'm going to park the car and call Seth and the guys," she told Dean. "I'll meet you up there with her bag."

The nurse who rolled AJ into the ER was obviously far calmer than her or Dean. She spoke in a soothing voice, gently ignoring AJ's frantic swears as she handed Dean a clip board full of forms to fill out. "Have you been a patient here before, sweetie?" the nurse asked. "Who's your doctor?"

"J-Jackson," AJ gasped before another contraction hit. She gripped Dean's arm firmly as she rode out the pain, breathing the way her moms-to-be books had told her to. It didn't help as much as she thought.

"Oh good, she's on call today," the nurse said as she wheeled AJ over to the elevator. Dean followed, numb, still clutching the clipboard he'd been given. "Dad, I'm going to need you to start filling out those intake forms while we make our way up to labor and delivery."

"I'm not the-" he began, but faltered. _Fuck it, _he thought. _I'm not going to complicate things. _He grabbed the attached pen and began scrawling down AJ's information as they rode up to the 5th floor- name, birth date, address, insurance information. He knew most of it by heart, but had to check the cards in her wallet for her more sensitive information he'd never been told.

AJ's heart was pounding a mile a minute as the nurse wheeled her down the hallway to the maternity ward. "I'm only 8 months along," she said frantically. "He can't come yet. He's too small!"

"I'm going to page your doctor and see about getting you a room, ok?" the nurse replied before leaving them in the lobby of the maternity ward.

"I'm so scared!" she cried, looking up at Dean anxiously. "What if something happens to him? What if there's a problem during delivery? What if-"

"AJ, shut up," he told her, suddenly strangely calm. It was the terrified look in her eyes that reminded him how much he needed her to be strong for both of them right now. He knew how scared she was, and that she was likely missing Punk more than ever right now. He had to pull himself together, for her sake and for the baby's. "Everything is going to be fine, ok? He's going to be fine."

* * *

15 minutes later, Dean sat at AJ's bedside. She was dressed in a hospital gown now, lying back trying to breathe through her contractions. "Where's my doctor?" she asked, looking at him pleadingly. "Where's Kaitlyn? What's going on?"

"They're on their way," Dean replied calmly. "Don't worry."

"Stop telling me not to worry!" she snapped. "Of course I'm going to worry." But truthfully, she was glad she was able to lean on him, and some of her fears were alleviated a moment later when Kaitlyn burst into the room with AJ's bag slung on her shoulder.

"What's happening?" Kaitlyn asked. "Sorry, it took me awhile to find parking. And I called Seth, Colt and Roman. They're on their way."

"She's in a lot of pain," Dean reported helpfully. "We're waiting for the doctor. I'm about to get up and go yell at someone, but she keeps digging into my arm whenever there's a contraction, so I'm stuck."

Before AJ could snap at him again, her doctor breezed into the room. "Well, I didn't expect to see you here for several more weeks!" Dr. Jackson announced. "34 weeks isn't our ideal gestation. I'd like to keep you pregnant for a few more weeks, but the nurse tells me your contractions aren't very far apart."

Several minutes later, AJ was left in horror following an exam. She was almost fully dilated, and her contractions were getting longer. There was no doubt about it- she was giving birth today. "I can't, I can't," she groaned again and again. She was terrified something was going to her darling baby boy who seemed so intent on making an early entrance into the world. She couldn't imagine what would happen if she lost him- she wouldn't only be losing her son, but the only piece of his father she had left.

* * *

AJ couldn't tell how much time had passed; all she knew was pain. She was aware of frequently getting a vice grip on Dean's arm, clinging to him as she cried and shouted through the contractions. Did her doctor just tell her she would be pushing soon? She wasn't sure, as her head was swimming. "AJ," Dean told her firmly, "you need to listen to the doctor. She just told you to push."

"_You _need to listen to the doctor!" Kaitlyn called. "She told you to hold AJ's leg up!"

"What?" Dean said, shaking his head. "Me? I can't- I'm not- I-"

She smacked the back of his head. "Shut up and do it!"

The next thing AJ was aware of hearing, after the most intense pain and agony of her life, were the angry wails of a baby. "Holy shit, it's a baby," Dean muttered. He could barely feel his hands as they handed him a pair of scissors.

"He's small, but his lungs sound great!" the doctor called. "Let's get him cleaned up and-" She paused.

"What?" Kaitlyn asked. "What's wrong?"

"Something's wrong?" AJ breathed out, red-faced. "But he sounds great… he…" She looked down at her stomach, still firm and bloated. Again, the fear she felt earlier gripped her intensely. Her son seemed fine-she could see him getting weighed and cleaned up on the other side of the room-but was there something wrong with _her_? "Dean, what's happening?"

"I think you have another baby in there," Dr. Jackson replied calmly. "Get ready to deliver again."

Another baby.

"That's nice," AJ said faintly, "but I'm not pushing another one out."

* * *

"Two babies," Dean exclaimed. "_Two _fucking babies. How did this even happen? How did we not know?" He was cradling a bundled up baby boy in his arms, while the baby girl they never knew existed was resting with AJ. He was absolutely floored, as was Kaitlyn, who had already taken a ton of pictures of both of them. _Twins._

"It's rare, but it happens sometimes," the doctor explained carefully. "This little girl must have been hiding behind her brother the whole time, which is why we didn't see her on the ultrasound. That's also why your son looked so small- they were sharing space and nutrients. It's totally normal for twins to come this early. They're a good size, too. About 6 pounds each."

"This is crazy," AJ whispered, looking down at her daughter. "I didn't even expect to have the first baby, let alone a second. Wow." She kissed the baby's silken forehead. "Twins." It had only been an hour after their birth, but already she could see their father in them. It brought tears to her eyes to see hints of twinkling green in theirs.

A little while later, a nurse came in with birth certificates for AJ to fill out. She proudly wrote down the name she'd chosen for her son- Christopher, using Punk's first name of Phillip for his middle name. Her daughter took a bit of discussion back and forth, but she finally settled on Rachel, middle name Kaitlyn.

AJ was asleep by the time Colt, Seth and Roman were allowed in to meet the babies. "Shit, two?" Colt asked with a laugh as he looked down at the sleeping boy in his arms. "Punk sure goes all the way when he knocks up a girl, doesn't he?"

"Never leaves a job unfinished," Roman agreed with a chuckle.

"So, what's the girl's name?" Seth asked. "I know this little guy is Chris." He smiled, proud to have been the one to suggest the winning candidate.

"Rachel," Kaitlyn answered. "And her middle name is _my _name. Can you believe it? I'm an aunt!"

Things settled down a few hours later, with Kaitlyn and the boys leaving to buy another crib and car seat. AJ, still completely exhausted from giving birth to twins. The babies were resting too, soothed to sleep after being fed by their mother for the first time. Dean held both of them in his arms, sitting in a chair by the window. "Your dad was a great guy," he whispered to them. "He would have loved you guys instantly. I wish he was here to see you." He eased them into their bassinets afterward, glancing over at the birth certificates on the table. AJ hadn't filled them out completely. Grumbling good naturedly, he grabbed them and the pen and sat down to finish them.

_Phillip Jack Brooks, _he scribbled down in the line above Father. He filled in their last name too, and then expertly forged Punk's signature on the form (he knew it wouldn't be valid otherwise). He knew why AJ had neglected to fill those parts out- she was afraid to name him as the father, knowing he wasn't there to do it himself. But Dean was determined to make sure Punk's legacy lived on. What the hospital personnel didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

With the certificates finished, he put them back on the table and looked over at AJ. She looked so beautiful when she slept, he thought. So peaceful. _I'll take care of you_, he told her silently, leaning over to kiss her forehead gently. _I'll make sure everything is ok. I promise._

* * *

**Author's note: And tomorrow comes the chapter you've all been waiting for... stay tuned for Punk, everyone! **


	44. Chapter 44

It had been a couple of months since his 5 month celebration with Maria, and Punk was feeling more confused and upset than ever.

It wasn't Maria's fault, either. Their brief discussion about his mystery dream woman had been the only conversation they'd ever had about it, as Punk felt too guilty to ever bring it up again. He was afraid if he opened his mouth about it again, he would admit what he hid from her, and he couldn't risk that. He felt like such a lying scumbag, not telling his girlfriend the truth about what went on inside his head at night, but even thinking about admitting this shared love he had made him feel insane. The result was waking up with shame every morning, and the feeling of being about burst was growing with each passing day. He was usually able to block it out during work, but today he saw a new problem arise.

"Hey, are you all right?" Punk asked with a frown.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Rey replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, it never takes you this long to milk the cows," Punk explained. "And you're almost as pale as I am. When a native Mexican starts looking the same as a white guy, there's usually a problem."

Rey sighed and sat down on a bench. "All right, I'm not feeling too well today," he admitted. "But really, it's not that bad. I'm just really tired." He leaned back against the wall of the barn, closing his eyes.

"Bullshit," Punk called him out. "You're sweating bullets. Come on, I'm bringing you inside." He ignored his boss's howls of protests as he helped the smaller man out of the barn and into the house. As soon as they cleared the front door, Rey doubled over and threw up painfully on the floor. "Oh, fuck. Come on Rey, stand up. Angie! Can you come help me?"

His boss's wife came running out of the kitchen, where she'd been preparing lunch. "Oh my God, what happened?" she cried, rushing to Rey's aid. "Is everything ok?"

"He's sick and he won't admit it," Punk explained, hauling Rey back to his feet again. "He's been slowing down for days now, but he can barely drag himself around the barn today. He needs to get his ass in bed before he collapses again."

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm just tired?" Rey growled.

"There's vomit on my floor," Angie pointed out coolly. "You're sick, and if you don't let Punk bring you upstairs, then you can sleep on the couch tonight."

"But what about the farm?" Rey protested. "You can't do everything by yourself."

"I'll be fine, don't worry about it," Punk assured him. "Come on, let's go." He helped Rey up the stairs while Angie cleaned up the mess on the floor, only leaving his side when Angie came up to help him change clothes. Punk wasn't terribly worried about Rey's health- he clearly had a fever, and all signs pointed to some flu like illness. He needed to rest and relax for awhile, and Punk knew the constant pushing himself at work had probably made his sickness work.

What Punk worried more about now was getting everything done on the farm. Before Punk's arrival, Rey had done most of the work himself, often working late into the night to get things done. With an extra pair of hands he was able to get everything done in a timely manner, which upped their crop output. There was now too much to do by just one person, and Punk knew he was in for a rough time ahead.

He was completely exhausted when everything was done, even with cutting a few less necessary corners. It was nearly 10 PM by the time he was able to wash his hands and exit the barn. He'd had to cancel his outing with Maria, much to his discontent. But as always she understood, citing that helping out the family who was taking care of him was more important than seeing her tonight. Her graciousness made him feel like even more of a jackass. _What a great boyfriend I am to you, _he thought.

The next morning, his body was aching in a way it hadn't since he was recovering from injury; taking care of the entire farm by himself was absolutely back breaking. There was no way he could do this again today, let alone the next several as Rey recovered. He needed help. And with a miserable sigh, he knew there was only one person he could ask.

"Dom?" he called, knocking on the teenager's bedroom door. "I need to talk to you."

"What?" the boy growled irritably.

"Come on," Punk urged. "It's important."

The door flew open a moment later, Dominick leaning in the doorway. "Yeah?" he asked impatiently.

"I need your help on the farm," Punk replied.

Dominick laughed at him. "No way," he said, reaching to shut the door in his face.

Punk reached over to stop him. "Look," he said flatly, "I know I'm your least favorite person on the planet right now. But this isn't about helping me. Your dad is sick and there's too much work for me to do alone. If you don't help me, I won't be able to get everything done in time and your family isn't going to make the money it needs to stay on its feet. Can you please put your hate for me aside for a few days? Please, Dominick. I'm begging you. I won't even say a word outside of what we need to talk about for work, if that's what you want. Help me help your dad."

The sullen teenager was silent for a long moment, studying Punk as though he was searching the man's face for sincerity. Punk was truly putting himself out there for his family, and he was swallowing his pride and asking for help. Maybe, he thought, just maybe, Maria and Aalyah knew what they were talking about when it came to this guy. "All right," he agreed finally. "Let me go put on my work clothes."

* * *

Over the next week, Punk was growing steadily more proud of Dominick. The boy was a lifesaver when it came to work on the farm, deviating from his usual attitude toward Punk and putting his feelings aside for the sake of his family. It took him a little while to loosen up and start joking around with Punk; he would often fall silent in the middle of laughter, as though reminding himself he was supposed to hate his man and everything he stood for. But by the 3rd day of working together, Dominick found he was unable to despise Punk the way he had been for so many months. It was easy to hate the man when he knew nothing about him, but watching and helping Punk pour everything he had into a farm he refused to take payment to work on let Dominick see him in a new light. Maybe, he thought, he'd been wrong about this tattooed American all along.

"So you really don't remember _anything _about your life before?" Dominick asked him at the end of the week as they washed their hands at the basin. Rey's fever had broken a few days ago, but Punk refused to let him work until he was able to get to his feet without needing to steady himself on a piece of furniture, so Punk and Rey's son would be working together for another day. "Not a single thing?"

"Nothing," Punk confirmed. "I'm totally clueless. I get a lot of weird dreams that I think might be about people I used to know, but I can't be sure."

Dominick nodded, accepting this as they walked out of the barn. "What if… you _did _remember?" he asked. "What would happen to Maria? Would you leave and never see her again?"

Punk turned around to look at him. "I couldn't possibly tell you what would happen," he admitted. "I don't know what my life was like before I ended up here. I don't know what I'll do when I remember, if I ever do. But I can promise you that I love her, and I'll do everything I can to make sure she doesn't get hurt." He paused. "Why do you ask, anyway?"

Dominick hesitated before answering; this wouldn't be easy. "I'm not sure if this will do anything, but I might have something that will help you remember," he said. "You just have to promise you won't be mad when I tell you, ok?"

Punk laughed as they reached the house. "All right, I promise," he replied.

"Wait here." Dominick ran inside the house, closing the door behind him. He left Punk wondering what he could possibly have up in his room that would help him with his memory problem, but that question was answered a moment later when he reappeared a moment later with a black leather wallet.

"What's this?" Punk asked, taking it from his outstretched hand.

Again, Dominick hesitated. "Your wallet," he replied quietly. "I… took it out of Dad's truck when you first got here. It must have fallen out of your pocket or something, because I found it in the trunk after I helped Dad bring you inside. I didn't trust you, so I kept it. Your passport, too. It was tucked inside. I haven't even looked at it, to be honest. It's just been sitting in my desk for months."

"My… my wallet," Punk echoed, looking down at it.

"You promised you wouldn't be mad!" Dominick reminded him nervously.

"I'm not, I'm not," Punk assured him. "I'm just… surprised…" His eyes widened as his gaze again was turned to the item in his hand. When he opened it, he would find out everything about his past he'd been wondering- his name, where he was from, how old he was… maybe there would even be pictures of family. Maybe he would find out everything he needed to know. Taking a deep breath, he flipped it open and saw an American driver's license in the ID pocket. The picture looked old- more than several years, at least. His hair was pretty long, and he looked far more smug in the picture than he ever remembered being. But that wasn't the information that mattered. What mattered was below the picture… Phillip Jack Brooks, born 10/26/78. Chicago, Illinois.

"Well?" Dom asked. "What's your name?"

"Phillip," he replied, eyes widened. "My name is Phillip. I'm 34, and I'm from Chicago."

"What else is in there?" It was clear the boy was excited now.

"Hold on, I'm looking," Punk said. His heart was racing faster than it ever had before. He was excited too, and also terrified of what else he would find in this wallet. Taking a deep breath, he removed his ID to see if there was anything else in that pocket. He found 3 pictures… and the first one nearly made his heart stop. His knees buckled and quickly gave out, sending him crashing to the floor.

"What's wrong?" Dominick cried, reaching to help him up. "Who's that in the picture?"

Punk didn't answer as he stood, beads of sweat rapidly forming as he studied the photo. It contained himself, grinning ear to ear, with his cheek pressed against that of a young woman he recognized instantly. Those chocolate colored eyes, that bright smile, that flawless skin, that long brown hair… he knew this woman. He knew her from his dreams, and from his life. She was… her name was… He flipped the picture over, examining the back. There was a date written on it in flowery handwriting and below it, names: Punk, and… _AJ._

He couldn't think anymore. Everything was too dizzy. Before he could even try to look up at Dominick, his knees weakened again and everything went black.

* * *

When Punk opened his eyes again, he was back in bed.

"My God!" Angie cried, rushing to him. "Are you ok?"

"My head hurts," Punk muttered weakly.

"I think you said that the first time you woke up here," Rey said with a chuckle. He was sitting in a chair next to the bed. "Dom says you hit your head against the wall when you fell. But we didn't see any wounds. I'm sure you're fine, tough guy." He turned to glare at Dominick, who stood next to his father with his head hung low. "This guy on the other hand will be starting heavy duty grounding very soon. I can't believe you stole his wallet and hid it from him for 9 months!"

"Please don't punish him," Punk begged, struggling to sit up. He groaned- there was a dull ache at the back of his head, but it was nothing compared to the pain he felt from his original head injury. "I don't blame him for not trusting me. We've really got along well this week."

Rey frowned- he wasn't happy with his son's actions. But if Punk was willing to forgive… "All right," he agreed, glancing at Angie for approval, who nodded. "But you'd better apologize, Dominick."

"I'm so sorry!" Dom blurted out immediately, rushing to Punk's bedside. "I shouldn't have been so mean to you and hid your wallet." He started to sniffle, on the edge of tears, but Punk quickly waved it off.

"I told you before, it's ok," Punk assured him, squeezing his shoulder. "I'm just glad I know now."

"What else do you remember?" Angie asked, handing him the wallet.

Punk spread the wallet out on the bed, grabbing the photos from the ID pocket again. "This is April," he explained, running his thumb over her glossy cheek. "AJ. My girlfriend." He looked at Rey. "This was the girl I was telling you about, the one from my dreams." He moved to the next one, a photo himself and 4 men with their arms around each other's shoulders. "And this… these are my friends, I think." He squinted, thinking long and hard. Yes, it was coming back to him now. "This one, this is Colt. I grew up with him, and he's the one who started calling me Punk." He laughed. "I guess you're not the only ones who had the idea. And these guys, these are… yeah. This is Dean, Seth and Roman." The rush of memories flooding his mind was intense- he could remember his parents' names, what his childhood home looked like, when he graduated high school… There was one more picture left.

"An ultrasound?" he said aloud, frowning down at the shrunken down picture. It was little more than a black and white peanut. "Why do I have an… oh, fuck!" It came back to him suddenly. "AJ… she was pregnant… she was 2 months pregnant when I… the last time I saw her. But I've been here for, damn it… 9 months? Then that means…" The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, like a knife straight to his heart. If he'd been here for that long, and she was already a few months pregnant when he disappeared, that meant the love of his life had already had the baby. Without him.

"Punk?" Rey said calmly, watching his friend. He was frozen on the bed, staring wide-eyed at the picture in his hands. "Punk, what's wrong?"

"She had a baby," Punk whispered. "She had my baby, and I wasn't there. I have a child out there I've ever met, and my girlfriend probably thinks I'm dead."

"Your girlfriend?" Dominick echoed. "But you have a girlfriend here! That means… that means you have two girlfriends!"

"Holy fuck… what am I going to do? How did I even end up here? What-" The guns. The drugs. Alberto. The rescue. Using the last of his strength to kick the grenade away... It came rushing back in quick, terrifying, horrifying flashes. He was a killer. Gagging, he quickly got up from the bed and ran past the Mysterio family. He barely made it to the bathroom in time, painfully vomiting everything he'd eaten that day. He felt sick and disgusted with himself.


	45. Chapter 45

Because Rey was still a little weakened from his bout with the flu, Dominick reached the bathroom first. "Punk, what's wrong?" he asked with alarm. The boy helped the tattooed man to his feet, over to the sink where Punk washed out his mouth and splashed cool water on his face.

"I built a life here," Punk replied quietly as Rey and Angie reached them. "I became part of your family, and today I found out I have a family back home that… probably… thinks I'm dead." He turned around to face them suddenly, even as a powerful hand gripped his heart and squeezed it with a force he thought would bring him to his knees again. They moved back to the bedroom, where Punk sat down on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees. "What the fuck am I going to do?"

"Slow down," Rey advised gently, easing himself back into his chair. "Are you sure about all of this?"

Punk looked down at the contents of his wallet, spread out on the bed before him. He could hear AJ whispering sweet declarations of love into his ear as she lay next to him at night, her barely pregnant belly sticking between them. He could hear his friends' laughter, Dean, Seth and Roman stumbling to the car under Punk's watchful eye. He could see himself riding bikes down a hill with Colt at age 15. He could even see the hardest part of it, trading large shipments of guns for incredible sums of cash at the direction of an evil man. He could see all of it as clear as day. "I'm positive," he told them finally. "I can see everything in my head. I know it's true. It's all right here."

"Well it sounds simple to me then," Rey replied. "You have to go back."

"I know I have to go back," Punk said. "But… but what about all of you? I can't just abandon you today and run back to America. What about the farm?"

"We'll manage," Angie assured him. "Dominick knows the ropes now, and we have the time until he starts school again to find another farm hand."

"You've given us almost a year of your life," Rey pointed out. "None of us will be upset with you for leaving. You were always meant to, as soon as you remembered."

"But what about Maria?" Dominick piped up. "What are you going to tell her?"

"Oh fuck," Punk whispered, a painful lump rising in his throat. In the rush of memories, he'd almost forgotten about the girlfriend he had here for so many months. She was completely innocent in this, had no idea he now knew who (and what) he was… and she would be here soon to pick him up. What was he going to tell her? How would she react? Hearing of his love and his child back at the home he suddenly remembered was going to break her heart. "I have to tell her, don't I?"

Rey didn't answer, standing up instead. "You need to get back to your family," he said flatly. "What you have here is just a transition, and we'll be sad to see you go but you have to get back to your life, no matter how much you love all of us. I'm going to get the cash together for a one way flight to Chicago, and you should wait outside for Maria. When she does, you need to be a man and tell her." He got up and left Punk with Angie and Dominick.

"I'm going home, aren't I?" Punk asked quietly, looking down at AJ's picture. He could already feel her slender arms around his neck and her soft lips on his cheek, and he hadn't even said goodbye to everyone else yet. "I'm really going home."

* * *

As Maria made the drive over to the farm, she had to admit she was more excited than usual to see Punk. She hadn't seen him in a few days, with how hard he'd been working to pick up the slack on the farm with Dominick. He really needed to be able to relax and unwind, and she was glad she would be able to take him out and treat him to dinner after a hard day's work.

But as she pulled up, she frowned slightly in confusion. He was already waiting outside for her, leaning against the wall near the front door of the house, looking down at something in his hands. He was usually inside taking a shower by the time she arrived. Perhaps he'd finished up early? Shrugging, she parked her truck and got out. "Hey baby," she said, approaching him with a smile. "Ready to go?" She leaned in to kiss him, but to her surprise he turned his face and her lips hit his cheek.

"We need to talk," he said.

"Oh boy," she replied with a chuckle. "Those words never mean something good. What's going on?"

"Maria, this is serious," he replied sternly. "I… I have something to tell you." He looked down at the photo in his hands. "Dominick gave me my wallet today… apparently, he found it in Rey's truck when I was first brought here and he hid it until today. I found this picture inside and when I saw it, I remembered everything." He extended his hand, offering her the picture. She took it, eyes widening at what she saw. A beautiful young woman had her cheek pressed against Punk's, and he was grinning from ear to ear. There was an incredible joy radiating from both of their smiles.

"I've never seen you so happy," she whispered, studying the picture with awe.

"This is the woman I was dreaming out," he explained. "She was… she is… my girlfriend, AJ. She was pregnant the last time I saw her, Maria. She's had the baby by now. _My _baby."

She looked up at him. "Please don't beat around the bush," she begged, trying desperately to fight back the tears that were forming in her eyes anyway. "Just tell me what you have to tell me. You're leaving, aren't you? You're going back to wherever you're from?"

"Maria, you have to understand," he pleaded. "You know I care about you and I love you. But I never expected to remember who I was. I've been living here for almost 10 months with no idea what happened before I woke up. I didn't know I would have a family and a baby back home. I-"

"Punk," she interrupted him quietly, "stop. I get it. I knew what I was getting into from the beginning when I got together with an amnesiac, didn't I? There was always a chance you'd remember and have to leave… it's my fault, really." The tears were flowing freely now. "My God, I'm so stupid… there's no way you could love me the way you love someone from your real life."

"Hey, hey, stop that," he ordered, wrapping his arms around her. "It's not your fault. I-"

She pulled away from him. "You shouldn't touch me like that," she whispered. "You're taken, remember? I don't want to make this harder than it has to be." She wiped the tears from her cheeks, taking a deep breath. "I guess I should go, then… I have to start picking my life up from where it left off before I met you."

His heart broke for her, and for himself. "I'm sorry," he whispered back, pulling her toward him again. He just had to touch her one more time, pressing his forehead to hers and framing her face between his hands. "I'm so sorry, Maria. I never meant for this to happen."

"I know," she muttered as his thumbs moved across her cheeks, brushing the tears away.

He kissed her one last time, pressing his lips to hers in an attempt to seal the emotion between them. But he couldn't. She was there to help heal him when he was lost… and now he had to abandon her, leaving her just as listless as he himself had been months ago. She pulled back a moment later, stroking his cheek before turning to walk away. But just as she reached her truck she turned back to him. "Hey Punk?" she called, her voice breaking slightly.

"Yeah?"

"Can you tell me your real name?"

He remembered this. He remembered having this conversation, remembered telling AJ his name this way a lifetime ago. "My name is Phil," he replied.

"Phil," she echoed with a nod. It was a final treasure to take with her as she climbed into her truck and drove away. She'd wanted to know it months ago, during her first night with him, but suddenly having it now, she wished she could give it back in exchange for a life with him the way this girl he was returning to had. But that wasn't her life. It was his, and she couldn't be a part of it anymore.

* * *

"But I don't _want _you to leave!" Aalyah cried, stamping her foot angrily. Out of everyone, she was taking his departure the hardest, perhaps even harder than Maria.

"I'm sorry baby girl, but I have to," Punk replied sadly. "I have to go home."

"You're going to forget about me," she sobbed, throwing herself against his chest.

"I'll _never _forget about you," he promised truthfully. He loved this little girl; she was like a ray of innocent sunshine who always saw beauty in everything. The world needed more people like her.

"Never?" she asked with a sniffle. "And you'll answer my letters?"

"I promise," he told her firmly, patting her back.

"Wait here!" She sprang out of his embrace and ran up the stairs to her room, returning a moment later with a small frame and handing it to him. "Here. Take this with you so you always remember us."

"This is great," he said with a smile, looking down at the frame. It contained a photo of himself with the Mysterio family. Maria had taken it on Rey's birthday a few weeks back. "I'll keep this always." He then moved to embrace Dominick, who stoically refused to cry, but he could tell the boy was getting a little choked up at the thought of his new friend leaving.

"I wish I wasn't such a jerk to you the whole time," the teenager told him. "We've only been friends for a week, and now you're leaving!"

Next was Angie, who was just as tearful as her daughter. She gave him a big hug and kissed both his cheeks. "Be good to that girl of yours," she made him promise. "And be strong, ok?"

"Come on, get in the truck," Rey called from the driveway. "Let's get there before midnight, huh?"

Punk nodded and headed outside. He had nothing to take with him but the clothes on his back, the frame in his hands and the wallet in his pocket. He bid a final farewell to the family before climbing into the cab with Rey and heading off to Juarez.

The two friends spent the hour and a half drive making the most of their time together. They laughed as they recounted memories, like when one of the cows kicked Punk in the nose when he was learning how to milk them, or when one of the horses spit out a pail full of water all over Rey's shirt, or the time Aalyah had drawn all over Punk's face while he'd been sleeping on the couch. They'd had some good times together, and neither of them could repay each other for all they had done for each other. But now their time together was coming to an end.

"Here's what I've got for you," Rey announced as they pulled up to the small Juarez airport, handing him a small envelope of cash. Punk would have to take a connecting flight to Mexico City in order to get an international flight back to Chicago. "Airfare in Mexico is cheap as hell, so this should get you home."

"If there's anything left over I'll mail it back," Punk promised. He had a piece of paper in his wallet with Rey's address written on it, helpfully provided by Aalyah.

Rey just waved him off. "Don't worry about it," he assured him. "Get out of my truck already."

"I can't thank you enough for this," Punk said, reaching over to embrace him.

"It's what friends do," Rey replied with a smile as they separated. "Be careful out there."

Punk exited the truck and began to make his way across the parking lot, but there was one more thing that was eating at him. He originally told Rey and Angie that while he remembered his life before, memories of what happened that led to him losing his memories in the first place were lost on him. But he knew… and he couldn't let Rey leave knowing he'd lied. "Rey, wait!" he called, running back.

"What's up?" Rey asked.

"I have something to tell you." And in the briefest way he could, he quickly told Rey the story behind his presence in Mexico- working for Alberto Del Rio, trying to quit, AJ's kidnapping and the rescue. It felt good but terrifying to tell the truth. Rey listened patiently the entire time, finally nodding in the end.

"I had a feeling you either worked for or against the cartel," Rey admitted.

"What?" Punk asked, his eyes widened in disbelief. "But… but how? How could you know?"

"Everybody knows about the Del Rio cartel and that they all were killed," Rey explained. "I was in Juarez a day or two after his compound blew up, and everyone was talking about it. I thought it couldn't be a coincidence that right after his headquarters was destroyed and him and all his men were killed that I happened to find an American wearing burnt tactical gear just a few miles away."

"And you weren't worried that a possible killer was living in your house, with your family?" Punk asked.

"Of course I was at first," Rey replied. "But you showed yourself to be a good man in the time you were with us. The cartel used to ransack our town all the time. I thought if you were the man who finally took it all down, who was I to judge you based on your past transgressions?"

All Punk could do was laugh. Here he thought Rey would have cast him out once he learned the truth, only to find out the man had known and accepted him all along. "You're a better man than I am," he said. "Thank you, Rey. Again." Rey smiled at him one last time before driving off.

Punk took a deep breath as he entered the airport, cash in hand. This was it. After almost a year away, everyone he loved believing him to be dead, he was finally going home. _I'll see you soon AJ, _he thought as he looked down at her sweet smile. _I'll see you and our baby very soon._


	46. Chapter 46

"Is she asleep yet?" AJ asked softly, leaning over to peer at the infant curled against Dean's chest.

"Just about," Dean replied quietly over Rachel's soft, wispy tufts of brown hair. He began slowly easing himself off the bed. "I'm going to see if I can get her into her crib without waking her." After 2 months of scampering back and forth from the babies' room to his and AJ's, Dean had all but perfected the silent tiptoe that was necessary to get the twins to bed without waking them. He would never admit it, but he was proud of this progress, having never even held a baby before the two he cared for now were born.

AJ slid off the bed to follow them; she couldn't help it. She joined Dean in the babies' room (which had to be swiftly rearranged when Rachel made her surprise entrance into the world), watching from the doorway as he quickly but carefully laid Rachel down in her crib. "Good night," he whispered, taking care not to wake Chris, who had been fast asleep for half an hour already. "I love you."

Her heart swelled hearing his words. She had to admit she was surprised at how well he had taken to the babies, how easily he'd fit into the role he had assumed for them. He absolutely doted on them, whispering and singing to them when he thought no one was listening. It didn't seem to matter to him that these children were clearly not his; both of them had AJ's button nose and soft brow, Punk's mossy green eyes and prominent chin, Rachel with AJ's softer and lighter brown hair and Chris with thick, dark hair of his dad. Dean took care of them as though they were, although remaining careful to never overstep the boundary and naming himself as their father.

AJ didn't know how she would have coped with the huge task of raising two newborns if it hadn't been for Dean. Kaitlyn, Seth, Roman and Colt were all helpful too, but they had their own lives to tend to. Dean was the one who had dedicated himself to her. It was hard at first- he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Changing diapers, making bottles, comforting them when they cried and even dressing them was completely alien to him. "How long am I supposed to put the bottle in the microwave again?" he would ask. "The top is supposed to be off when I do that, right?" "I can't get the fucking zipper on this onesie thing to go up. I think it's broken." "He's been crying for 2 hours! What am I doing wrong?" But he learned quickly, and soon he was getting up in the middle of the night to soothe wailing infants almost as often as she was. Kaitlyn, Seth (who sometimes joked AJ's babies would make Kaitlyn want one of her own) and Roman marveled at his ease with the babies. The only one who didn't agree with his involvement, predictably, was Colt.

"You're not their father," Colt would argue. "What are you gonna do man, raise two kids who aren't yours? You've got to get back to your own life eventually."

"I don't know what I'm doing Colt," Dean would answer simply with a sigh, not in the mood to argue with what little sleep he was getting. "I'm just taking it one day at a time."

But it had been 2 months since the babies were born, and neither AJ nor Dean had made mention of any plan deviate from what they were doing, especially since she was due to finally return to work in a few weeks. She liked having Dean around. His presence helped keep her agonizing thoughts of Punk at bay, which hit her every time she saw pieces of him in her children. Holding them sometimes, she couldn't help but cry; they both had his pale skin, his crooked smile, and the same inward curl of their pinky toes that he did. She could imagine him standing with her in their room, looking over the cribs at their sleeping twins and smiling. _We did a great job_, he would say proudly. He would have loved to hold his son and daughter, rocking them to sleep and singing to them and teaching them to walk…

_No, _she told herself fiercely as she backed out of the room. She hurried back to her bedroom, biting her lip hard and refusing to let herself cry. _I've been doing really good today. _Sitting down on her bed, she tucked her hair behind her ears. She decided she would seek comfort the way she usually did- in Dean.

"Well they're both still down, but it's raining now," Dean announced as he joined her in the bedroom. "If there's any thunder they'll be up for sure." He sat down next to her, frowning. "You ok?"

"I'm fine," she assured him. "I was just thinking… it's been 2 months now since the babies were born."

"Yeah," he said slowly, nodding. "So?"

"So…"

"Oh!" The realization hit him suddenly, and he grinned. "Well why didn't you just say so?" Before they left the hospital, the doctor had given AJ strict instructions not to have sex for 6-8 weeks after giving birth, to allow her body time to heal. It had been a very frustrating few months for Dean, being forced to keep his hands to himself since she was 6 months pregnant. Finally being given the green light to take her body once again was an incredible treat.

She yelped with excitement, giggling as he pushed her back onto the bed. "Someone's happy," she teased as he climbed on top of her.

"I'm going to fuck the hell out of you," he muttered, nipping at her ear.

She lost herself in him. He moved and heaved inside her, keeping her thoughts at bay and taking her away from the sadness, just like he always did.

* * *

An hour later AJ lay curled in Dean's embrace, wearing one of his shirts. The TV was on, but at a low volume; she preferred instead to listen to the low rumble of the storm outside as he dozed on her shoulder, calmed by the sound of heavy downpour. Just as she began to drift off herself, a sound from the other side of the house shocked her back to alertness. Frowning, she strained her neck to listen; it sounded like frantic knocking at the front door. Sighing, she glanced at the clock- it was nearly 10 PM. It wasn't_ too_ late for someone to show up at the house, but this was pushing it.

She carefully slipped out of Dean's embrace and found a pair of shorts to put on. Approaching the door, she pulled back the curtain a little to peek outside, but trying to see anything was hopeless- the rain was heavy and the bulb in the porch light had burnt out a few nights ago. But after her kidnapping, she wasn't about to open the door without knowing who it was. "Who is it?" she called through the door.

"It's me," a familiar voice called back. "Open up, AJ."

The clearly Chicago accent struck a chord with her. "Colt?" she asked with a frown as she unlocked the door. "What are you doing here so late? Why didn't you-" He was soaking wet, a white T-shirt sticking to his torso and highlighting larger, more well-defined muscles. His hair was cropped very short, not at all the way it had been like the last time she'd seen him. And it wasn't Colt. It was a ghost. It had to be.

She opened her mouth and started to scream.

* * *

The sound of a piercing scream awoke Dean instantly. He shot out of bed, soldier-like reflexes bringing him to an alert status immediately. "AJ?" he called frantically, reaching into the drawer at the bedside table and pulling out his gun. "Are you ok?" He rushed out into the living room, gun drawn and ready to fire, only to find a man before him he never, ever expected to see again, not until the day he died. Standing in the doorway, across from a frozen in shock and awe AJ, was Punk.

He felt his heart stopped for a full, agonizing moment. All 3 of them were completely silent, AJ caught in the middle as Dean slowly and shakily lowered his gun. "This can't be," she whispered finally, her voice breaking. "How can you be here?"

"He's not!" Dean shouted, raising his gun again. "He's dead! I saw him die! I saw him get shot in the fucking head, and then a grenade exploded! He's been dead for almost a year!"

AJ felt like the entire planet had just been yanked out from under her. Here she was standing before a man she was sure could not possibly exist. She'd dreamed of this moment for the past 9 months of her life, of him walking back through the door and assuring her he'd been alive all along. But how could it be true? How could he have possibly escaped the hail of bullets and the torrent of fire Evan had just barely flown them away from? "This… this can't be real," she whispered, tears forming in her eyes as she took a step toward him, then another. Each step felt like she was closing hundreds of miles between them, an endless journey before she finally reached the doorway. "You can't be real."

"I _am _here," Punk assured her. His voice was as deep and powerful as ever, like it was being pulled straight from her imagination and made real again. "I'm right here, April. Touch me." He wanted so badly to rush toward her, gather her into his arms and kiss her, but he knew he had to take this slow. After believing him dead for so long, he had to give her the time to believe he was here.

Slowly, tentatively, she reached out to him. Her fingertips brushed against his face, feeling the very familiar and very real stubble. She moved her hand to cup his cheek, tears flowing freely now as she felt his wet, warm skin. He was real, he was alive, and he was here. "Oh, Phil!" she cried, throwing her arms around him and sobbing uncontrollably into his neck. She didn't care that he was soaking her, she just wanted to be in his arms again. "You're here, you're here," she whispered again and again, shivering as he raised his arms to embrace her. "You're really here."

"I'm here, baby," he whispered back.

"But how?" Dean interrupted finally, lowering his gun once the shock had begun to wear off. "How did you even get out of that? And why were you gone for so long? Did you walk back or something?"

Punk laughed over AJ's shoulder. "It's a long story," he replied. "You think I could come in?"

* * *

45 minutes later, Punk was dry and sitting on the couch in the living room, wearing a pair of pants AJ had dug out of the boxes of his clothes she'd been storing in the guest room. She was still curled into his embrace, and they'd been joined by Colt, Roman, Seth and Kaitlyn who Dean had called frantically. They all rushed over, positive that Dean was drunk and hallucinating and that they needed to have an intervention for him. But when they arrived and saw Punk in the flesh, every one of them nearly fainted. They each had a tearful reunion with who they previously believed to be their fallen comrade, particularly Colt, who cried shamelessly and held onto his best friend with a fierce grip.

Punk held onto him just as tightly. Being home again felt too good to be true. His friends were real and happy to see him, and AJ was clinging to his side the way he hoped she would. The emotion and energy in the room was almost too exhausting to handle, but he was overjoyed to have everyone he loved around him and welcoming him back.

The only person who didn't even so much as approach Punk was Dean, still too stunned to even try. He was leaning against the wall, arms folded, silent. This was too much for him to process.

"All right, you _have _to fucking tell us," Seth said finally. "How the hell are you alive?"

"I don't even care," AJ muttered, leaning on Punk's shoulder gratefully. She'd barely let go of him since he walked through the door, only releasing him to allow the others to hug him. She was still sure she was dreaming, about to wake up at any moment. "I'm just glad he's here."

"That's cute but there's no way he's going to get away with not telling us," Roman pointed out calmly.

"Yeah, I need to know if you're actually Superman," Colt added.

"No, he's Wolverine," Seth jumped in. "He's got an adamantium skeleton. That's why a damn bullet to the head didn't manage to kill him."

"God, will all of you shut up already?" Kaitlyn snapped, pinching Seth's shoulder. "I want to know!"

"Well first of all, I wasn't shot in the head," Punk explained. "It was a graze." He ducked his head and turned it toward them so they could see the faint scar beneath his short hair. "I had already pulled the pin on the grenade when I was shot. I managed to kick it away before I passed out."

"That's fucking insane!" Seth howled. "No wonder we thought you were dead."

"Okay, so somehow you survived the impossible and managed not to die despite all odds against you," Colt said with a nod. "Sounds a little superhero suspect to me, but ok. But where were you for the past 9 months? I can understand it taking a few days or weeks to get back to us, but why so long?"

"That's the fun part," Punk replied. "When I woke up, I couldn't remember a thing. All I knew was that I was hurt and I needed to get away from the burning mansion behind me, so I got up and started walking. I think I lasted a day and a half somehow before finally collapsing again. A farmer on his way back from Juarez to his small down found me and brought me to his home." He gave them a brief overview of his time with the saintly Mysterio family, telling them how Rey and his wife and kids nursed him back to health and brought him on as a farm hand. He decided he would leave out Maria's role for now, and ended the story with Dominick returning his wallet to him and triggering his memories.

"Wow," AJ whispered at the end, looking up at him. "So you were down there all this time, and you had no idea who you were? Or who I was?"

"I didn't know who I was, but I dreamed about you every night," Punk explained. "I didn't know your name or how I know you, but I kept seeing you and hearing your voice. When I saw the picture in my wallet, everything finally made sense."

"I almost can't believe it," Roman said, shaking his head slowly. "It's like something out of a movie. You have to understand, to us it feels like you're coming back from the dead."

"It feels that way to me too," Punk assured him. "Until yesterday I didn't even know how old I was." Then he turned to AJ with a broad smile. In all the excitement of returning, he'd waited until now to ask. "Do you think I could meet my baby now? You're definitely not pregnant anymore."

"Oh my God!" AJ cried, jumping up immediately. "I'm so sorry- I didn't even think- I'll go get them!" She rushed out of the room.

"Wait, _they_?" Punk echoed as she left. "There's more than one?"

"Oh, yeah, there was a little surprise waiting when she went into labor," Kaitlyn explained with a chuckle. "You actually have-"

"Twins," AJ finished gleefully, entering the living room with two bundled up infants in her arms. "This is your son Chris, and your daughter Rachel."

Punk gasped at the sight of them. He was shaking as AJ eased the babies, _his _babies, into his arms, staring down at his still sleeping children with awe. Not one, but two. They were his, they were beautiful, and they were perfect. He couldn't help it anymore; he started to cry, silent tears falling onto his cheeks as he held his twin son and daughter.

All the while, Dean watched in complete silence. He was happy Punk was alive; overjoyed, even. The man had been a father figure to him for well over a decade. But with him here now, holding his kids and kissing AJ's cheek with reckless joy, he suddenly felt as though the last nearly 10 months of his life had meant absolutely nothing.


	47. Chapter 47

Punk spent a full five minutes in complete silence, in utter awe of his children. Chris and Rachel… he never thought any offspring of his would be so perfect and yet, somehow, they looked exactly like he imagined children of he and AJ might look like. He delicately traced his index finger down the soft slopes of their brows, over their thin eyebrows, and across their tiny pursed lips. They remained blessedly asleep the whole time, as though somehow they knew the gentle touch was that of their father.

"How old are they?" he asked finally, looking up from the sleeping babies in his arms. "About a month?"

"Two," AJ corrected proudly. "They came a month early. The doctor said that was normal for twins. No one knew there would be two of them until I had them!" She smiled.

"Wow, you must be super mom to be getting up at night with both of these little guys." He let out a low whistle, and that was finally the noise that roused them from their slumber. Chris let out a low, irritated cry, his pitch quickly heightening and waking his sister. "Aw, did I wake you? I'm sorry, guys. I'm really sorry." He looked up helplessly. "What am I supposed to do?"

"They're probably hungry," AJ explained, although she couldn't help but smile as Punk rocked them gently in his arms in an attempt to calm them. "I'll go get them bottles."

Dean pushed himself off the wall and followed her into the kitchen. "AJ, you have to tell him," he said urgently as she busied herself grabbing clean bottles out of the dishwasher.

"Tell him what?" she asked calmly, not looking up as she attempted to match lids to the right bottles.

He blinked slowly. "You're kidding," he replied. "You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about! I'm sure the rest of them haven't said anything because they're waiting for us to do it. He's going to find out, AJ, and it's going to be sooner rather than later, once everyone else leaves and I'm still here because I don't have my own apartment anymore. Shit, I'm surprised he didn't realize it when I answered the goddamn door of _your _house in my underwear."

With both bottles full, she finally turned around to face him. "Punk just showed up on the doorstep after being dead for almost a year, and he's meeting his children for the first time," she said flatly. "I'm not about to tell him that one of his best friends and I have been sleeping together while he was gone."

"_Sleeping together_?" he echoed in disbelief. "So that's all this has been to you? Fucking while-"

"I am _not _having this conversation with you right now," she hissed. "We'll talk about it later."

"Everything ok in there?" Punk called from the living room.

"Everything's fine!" she called back, grabbing the bottles and hurrying back out. She refused to let anything spoil Punk's homecoming… especially not what was going on in her life lately, of which the guilt was gnawing at her even more now. She'd slept with Dean only a few hours ago, and here she was ignoring him as he begged her to tell Punk the truth. But she couldn't. Not yet.

"There's my girl," Punk said with a smile as AJ came back to the living room, bottles in hand.

AJ returned the broad smile. "You'll probably only be able to handle one at a time," she said.

"All right, looks like I have to let one of you go," Punk announced sadly, looking down at his hungry children. "Sorry Rachel, but Chris spoke up first so he gets first dibs on the bottle. Who wants her?"

"I'll take her," Seth offered, scooting over on the couch and extending his arms to take the little girl from Punk and the bottle from AJ. "I've been getting better at this. I think she likes me."

"Please," Roman said with a laugh and a wave of his hand. "They both like _all _of us. These kids have some pretty amazing uncles." He grinned.

"And an aunt!" Kaitlyn piped up. "Don't forget about me. They like me way more than they like any of you assholes. You barely know how to hold them."

"Yeah, keep talking," Colt chuckled, shaking his head.

* * *

No one left until after 2 in the morning, well after Punk had put the twins back to bed (reluctantly; he would have held them all night if he could). Everyone was hesitant to leave, as though they expected Punk to disappear the moment they walked out the door. It was only after he assured all of his friends that he would see them tomorrow when they began to clear out. Roman was the first to depart, followed shortly by Seth and Kaitlyn (Punk wasn't surprised to learn they were living together). Colt only left after he was able to get AJ alone, snagging her by the arm on her way back from the bathroom.

"You need to tell him about you and Dean," Colt whispered. "He's not going to like it no matter how you tell him, but he'll be more hurt if he finds out on his own." He left her side before she had time to reply.

Finally, at nearly 3 AM, Punk was alone in the living room with AJ and Dean. He yawned and stretched as he stood up; he'd been tired since he got off the plane at O'Hare Airport, and with everything finally settling down, exhaustion was starting to set in. "Well," he announced, "you know I love you Dean and I don't want to kick you out, but I'm tired as hell. I want to lie in bed and stare at my girlfriend annoyingly until I pass out. I'll see you tomorrow, I promise."

AJ's heart sank as he spoke. Did it have to come to this so soon? Why did she have to tell him now? "Punk, wait," she called as he headed into what he assumed was still their bedroom. "I have to-"

"These aren't my shorts," Punk said with a frown, holding up a pair he founded in his dresser as he stepped back into the hallway. "AJ, where are my clothes?"

"They're, um, they're in boxes in the guest room," she replied quietly, looking down. Her hands were burning. She knew he was only moments away from discovering what she should have told sooner. She glanced at Dean, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. She could tell he wasn't going to say anything; he was waiting for her to tell him herself. His eyes burned a hole in her. _What, are you ashamed of me? _That gaze said. But still, she didn't open her mouth.

"Then whose are these?" Punk asked with a frown. He looked from Dean to AJ with confusion. When neither of them said a word, it slowly began to dawn on him. Everything that had happened since Punk came home was suddenly making more sense- Dean's reluctance to interact with him, their hushed argument in the kitchen, and… "Wait. Dean, why were you here when AJ answered the door? Are you… You're not… you're not living here, are you?" He looked down again at the pair of shorts in his hands; they looked very similar to the pair Dean was wearing. He hadn't been wearing them when he rushed to the door… he'd been wearing boxer shorts.

Dean finally raised his head, the innocent confusion apparent on Punk's face suddenly making him feel terrible for not greeting his best friend with joy when he first showed up. "I am," he admitted.

"In… in my _room_?" Punk questioned, head whipping back and forth frantically as he again looked from Dean to AJ. His wide eyes begged for answers, but no one was offering them. "You guys… you aren't…" A painful lump rose in his throat as he came to the realization. "Are you guys… together?"

"It's not… it's not quite like that," AJ squeaked, trying desperately to stave off the tears she knew were inevitable. "It's complicated. We're not really _together, _we just-"

"Oh, come on, don't tiptoe around it like that!" Dean snapped. "Just tell the truth already! I've been sleeping in that bed for 6 months, AJ, and I've been helping you raise your children! If that's not together, then I don't fucking know what is!" He looked at Punk, who stared back with his mouth agape, crestfallen. "I- I'm sorry, man. It just sort of happened. Neither of us meant for this." He sighed. "You told me to take care of her, man."

"Yeah, I wanted you to make sure she wasn't crushed by depression and was staying healthy for her and the baby, not move in and start fucking her!" Punk shouted back, fists tightening. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He didn't know what to think or how to feel. He was a flurry of emotions, disgusted by the news and at the same time, guilty for even feeling this way. Did he even have the right to feel betrayed? After all, he had his own relationship during his time away…

"Punk, I'm so sorry," AJ sobbed. She knew he was likely to have reacted this way regardless of the way he found out, but she couldn't help but think he would have been less upset had she been forthcoming from the beginning. "I was so scared and alone, and he was there and… I'm so sorry!" She rushed toward him, arms outstretched, but he held up his hands to keep her at bay.

"AJ, I can't right now," he said, shaking his head.

"I should go," Dean muttered, turning around, although he didn't know exactly where he would head to- he broke the lease on his apartment months ago, and all of his things were here.

"Do whatever you want," Punk muttered. He headed into the guest room and slammed the door behind him. He couldn't face either of them right now, even as hypocritical as he felt. He hoped sleeping in a bed he owned (even if it wasn't the one he was used to) would help to clear his head. Maybe falling asleep with dreams of his newly discovered children would make this all seem less heartbreaking.

"I'm so sorry, Dean," AJ whispered, looking down as tears rolled silently down her cheeks. She couldn't believe he was slipping away from her already, after having him back for only a short few hours. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Don't be," Dean said with a sigh, looking down. "It's my own damn fault." He turned to go into the bedroom to get some clothes. "I guess I'm out of here."

"But where are you going to go?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "It doesn't matter."

She slid down against the wall in the hallway, hugging her knees to her chest. She heard the front door open and shut a moment later- Dean was gone, and Punk had shut himself away. _I'm sorry, both of you_, she thought miserably, her head lowering. _I'm so sorry I ruined everyone's lives. Again._


	48. Chapter 48

Dean didn't bother taking more than a few days' worth of clothes with him when he left the house that night; he wasn't thinking that far ahead. All he knew was that he needed to get away, and fast. He couldn't be in that house, knowing it wasn't his home anymore. It actually took him a few minutes of driving around to realize he had absolutely no idea where he was going. 4 possibilities came to mind- Colt's house, Roman's place, Seth and Kaitlyn's, or the nearest hotel. But for some reason, none of these sounded as good as getting a drink. Perhaps alcohol would still his shaking hands and cool his fiery anger. Maybe it would erase the images of AJ that flashed before his mind every time he blinked.

There weren't many bars still open at 3 AM, but Chicago was a good city to be able to find them. The only people still out this late were the exact kind whose company he needed, too- fellow members of the scum of society, just like himself. After pouring 2 shots down his throat, it took him exactly 30 minutes to charm the ditzy blonde next to him into the alley behind the bar. As she took to her knees and unbuckled his belt, he realized he didn't care that he didn't remember this girl's name or that he would likely be overwhelmed with shame when this was over. All that mattered now was that for the next 15 minutes, he wouldn't be thinking about AJ, the mother of two children he loved so desperately that would never, ever be his. None of them would be now.

_I'm complete scum_, he thought as he zipped up his jeans, walking away from the girl and heading back to his car without a single word. _One of my best friends came back from the dead and all I fucking care about is not being able to stay with a girl I never should have hooked up with in the first place. This is my own damn fault and I deserve to be miserable._

* * *

"How bad do you think it went after we left?" Seth asked as he removed his shirt, tossing it on the floor next to the bed before sliding under the covers. He didn't have to clarify what he was talking about- he knew they both had been thinking about how Punk would react to the revelation of Dean and AJ's relationship from the moment they walked out the door.

Kaitlyn rolled her eyes, propping herself up on one elbow to look at him. "You can't put that in the hamper?" she intoned, but then she shook her head. "I doubt it went well. Dean's gotten really attached to AJ and the twins. I don't think he'd want to just give them up with Punk returning."

"Maybe Colt was right," he admitted with a sigh. "When he told Dean this was a bad idea. Shit, who knows how all of them reacted? If I know anything about Dean, he probably went to go drink himself numb in some dive bar. Shit, he'd better not try to drive if he's fucked up. I hope he calls me if he needs a ride… maybe I should call him…" He was suddenly terrified for his friend, and thought perhaps he should have stayed for the confrontation to make sure everyone was safe.

"Relax," Kaitlyn advised calmly. "You know he would never drive drunk. He'll sleep it off in his car if he has to. He'll be fine… tonight. Tomorrow, I'm not so sure. I'm not so sure how any of them are going to feel when they wake up and realize this wasn't all some crazy dream come true turned nightmare." She laughed. "_I'm _still not sure any of this is for real!"

"If it isn't, we're having the same dream," he replied. "I didn't believe in ghosts until I walked through the door and saw one myself, but he's really alive and now he's back." He sighed. "Damn, this is so weird. What's going to happen to everyone's lives now?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "And as bad as it sounds, I'm just glad I don't have to go through what they're going through right now." She leaned over to kiss his forehead. "I love you."

* * *

Predictably, AJ couldn't fall asleep. She lay hopelessly awake in her bed, too aware of the sheets beneath her that still smelled like Dean and the fact that Punk was only 10 feet away to close her eyes for more than a second. Not even sheer exhaustion could knock her out, and she continued to toss and turn as thought after thought attacked her. What would she say to Punk when he was ready to talk to her? Would he be as furious as last night? Would he feel too betrayed by both of them to stay? Would she lose the father of her children again, only hours after getting him back? All of her questions so desperately required answers she couldn't get.

A little after dawn, she was still lying dazed in her bed when she heard a familiar cry from down the hall. She hurried to the babies' room, hoping to calm whichever one was distressed before the cries would wake the other. But the sound was silent by the time she arrived, when she found Punk standing in the darkened room with Rachel in his arms. "Shhh," she heard him whispering as he swayed back and forth. "It's ok, baby girl. Daddy's here. Daddy's here."

She continued to watch in silence as he soothed their daughter back to sleep, gently placing Rachel in her crib before turning around and spotting AJ in the doorway. "Don't worry," he told her quietly as he smoothed the baby's hair back. "I got her back to sleep."

"You're really good with them," she whispered.

He nodded, coming toward her. "We should talk."

Punk had just as much of a sleepless night. He didn't know what to think or how to feel, even as guilt gnawed at him torturously. How could he possibly be upset with AJ and Dean, when they thought he was dead? And he wasn't one to talk, either… he had his own relationship while he was gone. But even then, he had no idea AJ or his kids even existed. The entire situation was almost too unreal to bear, and yet here it was, waiting to be dealt with.

As he and AJ walked out to the living room, he had to wonder where Dean had gone off to. He felt terrible for essentially kicking the man out of the place he'd been calling home for the past 9 months, even under the circumstances… but he would deal with that later. For now, he had to focus on what and who was in front of him- AJ. He sat down on the couch, motioning for her to join him.

"Phil, I-" she began, but he held up a hand.

"I shouldn't have reacted the way I did last night," he told her, looking down. "That wasn't fair of me, especially because I…" The truth was right there on the edge of his tongue, begging to tumble out. _Tell her about Maria, _a voice in the back of his head urged, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't bring himself to break her heart more than he already had. She didn't need to know about that part of his time in Mexico… not yet. Swallowing hard, he continued. "Because I was gone for so long, and you thought I was dead. I just feel so… I don't know… betrayed? I didn't think you would move on so quickly, and especially not with Dean, of all people!"

"We never meant for it to be this way!" she blurted out finally. "It just… it just happened. I was crying all the time, barely eating, and I almost never came out of my room. Kaitlyn and the others tried to help, but they had their own lives. Dean was the only one who kept trying when I pushed everyone away. He took me to my doctor's appointments and forced me to eat and start acting normally."

"So then how did it start?" he asked.

"He had a fight with Colt one day when I was about 4 months pregnant," she explained. "He was… upset that you asked Dean to take care of me, and not him. He thought Dean wasn't able to do what you asked, and they argued about it. When he came home, he admitted he was here because you made him promise to be, we argued because I thought he didn't really care about me in the first place, and then…" She looked away, ashamed. "We both felt terrible and like we were betraying you, but we just didn't look back after that. Neither of us ever placed a label on whatever it is we have between us, but it's been going on since then."

Punk nodded, taking a deep breath as he digested all of this information. It was clear to him now that neither one sought out the other- it appeared to be a natural relationship that formed out of dealing with grief and loss together. He supposed he could accept that, even if he felt it meant his trust in Dean was violated… but that still left him with more questions. "What about the twins?" he asked. "Does he… does he act like he's their father? Does he call himself their dad?"

"Oh no, not at all!" she assured him quickly. "He even filled your name in and forged your signature on their birth certificates. He's great with them but he's never called himself Daddy to them. I just know he loves them, and they love him too."

"They love him," he echoed. This brought him to the hardest question of all, one he wasn't sure he even wanted to know the answer to. Even asking the question made him feel like a hypocrite- he too had confessed this to another. "Do _you _love him?"

"Oh, Punk," she whispered, grabbing his arm. She couldn't possibly find the words to explain herself. "He knows I never stopped loving you and that I never would, but-"

"Just tell me," he begged. "Please, April. Tell me. Do you love him?"

She looked up at him, eyes glittering with tears as she bit her lower lip and nodded. "Even after every day I spent with him, I still dreamed every night of you coming back to me someday. I've always loved you, since the first time you kissed me outside of my apartment. But I can never repay Dean for everything he's done for me while you were gone. He's sacrificed so much of his life to be here with me and help me with the babies. I can't _not _love him, too."

"But you can't have us both," he pointed out.

"I don't _want _both!" she cried, throwing her arms around him. "I want _you_, Punk. As much as I love him, he could never be you. You gave me our babies and you made me feel real again when I thought my life didn't mean anything, and you gave up your entire way of life just to keep me around. I love you so much, and I never want to let you go." She sobbed against his chest as he held her, overjoyed to be in his arms again, but so broken over having to let go… "Oh God, what am I going to tell Dean? How can I just toss him out and tell him 'thanks for helping out but I have my real boyfriend back now'? I can't just… oh…" She broke into a violent fit of tears again, collapsing against him.

"Shhh," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. "Don't worry, baby. I'm going to take care of it." He didn't quite know how he was going to do that just yet, but he was determined to fix everything in her life that he'd just thrown for a loop simply by reappearing in it. _After all, _he thought, _all of this is my fault in the first place anyway._


	49. Chapter 49

After letting AJ cry herself dry, Punk sent her to bed with strict instructions not to come out until she was fully rested. "But… but you just got back…" she faltered weakly in protest. "And the twins…"

"I'll be here when you wake up," he promised. "I'm not going anywhere. And don't worry about the babies, I'll take care of them. I have lost time to make up for, after all. Besides, I'm used to running on little sleep." He offered her a small smile, planting a soft kiss on her lips. "I can handle it."

Although she was still reluctant to leave his side, the kiss was enough to wear down her defenses. "Thank you," she whispered gratefully, throwing her arms around his neck and leaving a quick kiss on his jaw. "I love you."

"I love you too," he replied. "Now go on. Get to bed."

He took the opportunity to grab a small nap on the couch, but was awakened only half an hour later by a chorus of cries. Yawning and stretching, he headed to the babies' room to collect his distressed children. "Looks like you're both awake," he announced, surveying the situation. "I guess you both probably need to be changed, right? Let's see if I can do this…" He started with Chris, pulling the wailing infant out of his crib and carrying him to the changing table. It took some trial and error (he put it on backwards at first), but after a few moments he was able to successfully execute his first diaper change. He quickly moved on to Rachel, and after some searching managed to find clean clothes for both of them. "All right, now I bet you're hungry. I wonder where your mom keeps the bottles… this will be fun."

Half an hour later, he had both children fed and cleaned up (again; he hadn't counted on the fact that they might spit up). He lay on the floor of their room now, having laid them both out on a large activity mat he found. He marveled at them; Chris had managed to roll from his back to his side and was now waving his arms feebly at his sister, trying to move closer to her. Rachel was still on her back, reaching up to pat at the plastic toys that hung down over her. Whenever Punk reached over to touch them, smoothing their sparse hair back or to readjust them on the mat, they always stared back at him with eyes that were identical to his own. His heart swelled with pride.

Maybe he was getting the hang of this dad thing after all.

* * *

Over the next few days, Punk took care of the twins almost exclusively. He jumped up whenever he heard them cry, ready to attend to their needs at a moment's notice. AJ was overwhelmed with joy at how quickly he took to them, and vice versa- being a father apparently came natural to him, even though he never had much of a father figure to base himself on. She couldn't help but giggle at his insistence to do absolutely everything for them. "You'll get tired of it eventually," she warned.

"I'm already tired," he admitted as he readjusted a sleeping Chris on his chest, rubbing his son's back in rhythmic circles. "But I'll _never _get tired of taking care of them. I'm already planning tattoos of their names. What do you think, little guy? Where should I put them?"

Even as she watched them with a smile on her face, there were still uncertain emotions lingering in the back of her mind. No one had heard from Dean since he left the house in the middle of the night. He wouldn't answer any calls, no matter who they came from, and by the third night everything started going straight to voice mail. She was terribly worried about him. Where was he, and why wasn't he responding to anyone's methods of communication?

"You're thinking about him, aren't you," Punk said, studying her rapidly drooping expression.

AJ frowned, shifting to lay back with Rachel in her arms. "And you aren't?" she asked. "I'm worried about him. No one has heard from him for days. You aren't worried?"

"Of course I am," he replied calmly. "Just because I'm not happy about the two of you…" He paused. "Getting together, doesn't mean I don't care about him."

"I just don't want him to lose himself because of me," she whispered, looking down at her daughter. Dean would likely be giving both babies a bath right about now, but robbed of that, he was nowhere to be found. "Can we try calling him again? I-" Before she could finish, they both heard the sound of her cell phone vibrating incessantly on the bedside table. She snatched it and answered it after identifying Roman's name on the caller ID. "Hello?"

"AJ, I'm on my way over," Roman announced. "I have Dean with me."

"What?" she cried, startling Rachel, who began to whimper a little. "You found him?"

"Well…" He hesitated. "Sort of. He wandered drunk into the parking lot of my apartment building this morning. He was sitting on someone's car and one of my neighbors was about to call the cops. I made him shower and sleep it off before forcing him to come with me."

"But what am I going to say to him?"

"That's up to you and Punk," he replied. "But this has to be fixed. He can't go on this way."

* * *

15 minutes later, the babies had been put to bed and AJ was pacing the living room anxiously. "What are we going to say to him?" she repeated, over and over again.

"I told you I would handle him when the time came," Punk reminded her.

"I can't just let you break up with him for me!" she cried. "I have to say something, too! What kind of person would I be if I didn't even thank him?"

She didn't have much more time to think it over, as only a moment later they heard a car pull into the driveway. Punk went to open the door and Roman walked in, dragging a reluctant Dean behind him. "Why the fuck am I here?" Dean growled. "No one needs to say anything to each other. The gang's back together and I'm out on my ass. End of story."

"That's not the end of the story, and you know it," Roman intoned. "You need to clear the air."

"Where the hell have you been for the past few days?" AJ demanded, marching right up to him. "You weren't answering your phone and you had everyone worried sick!"

"Drinking myself to death in dive bars all over this beautiful goddamn city," he snapped in reply. "What the hell do you care? You've got your real boyfriend back now."

"Please don't say things like that," she begged. "I don't-"

"Don't _what_?" he snapped.

"Hey, hey, calm down," Roman advised. "Don't start with this. Just listen."

"No one wants to kick you out of our lives," Punk said. He took a deep breath. "I didn't get the chance to say this before you left, so let me say it now. I can never, ever thank you for everything you did while I was gone. I may not like how close you and AJ got, but you took care of her and my kids. You went way beyond anything I ever expected, and I'm sure all of them are better off because of what you did."

"Yeah, I took care of her and the kids," Dean shot back. "I did everything no one else even bothered to try to do! I took her the doctor and forced her to eat, I held her hand during labor and I cut the kids' cords, I signed their birth certificates, I got up with them in the middle of the night, and I paid the damn bills! I hadn't gotten fucked up like this in 6 months. I manned up, and I did everything I could to keep her together! And what have I got to show for it now that you waltzed back in? Fucking _nothing_!"

Punk listened to the rant in calm silence. He expected this argument; the fiery, determined side of Dean was why Punk selected him as AJ's caretaker in the first place. But now that he was done, Punk didn't know what to say. Dean was right- he'd taken on more responsibility than he ever dreamed of, and he'd handled it beautifully. What was Punk supposed to say to that?

Thankfully, AJ stepped in. "The hardest thing I ever had to do was let go of Punk," she explained. "I never stopped loving him, you know that. But don't think I'm just throwing you aside like you didn't matter. I would never do that. I love you, but I have to let go of you and move on with my life. You do, too. That's the last thing I have to ask you to do, Dean."

Dean knew what she was asking him to do. She was asking him to let go. "But what am I supposed to do know?" he asked, almost pleadingly. "I got my greatest wish- my friend came back from the dead, but now it turned everything into a fucking nightmare. How am I supposed to just… walk away and forget two kids I love more than anything?"

"You don't have to," Punk assured him quickly. "They're here safe because of you and I'll never keep them from you. I know how much they mean to you, and you mean a lot to them too. I don't want you to be a stranger, Dean. I want my friend back."

"I… I don't know," Dean muttered. "I need… fuck…" He hurried out the door, running to the edge of the driveway where he threw up for the 5th time that day. AJ ran after him, putting a hand on his back and comforting him as he retched painfully.

"I'm so sorry," she told him tearfully. "I'm so sorry about all of this."

He forced himself to stand up, shaking her hand off. "Don't be sorry," he said, smiling thinly. "Shit, at least I had you and those brats for a little while, right?"

She smiled back and nodded, tears falling as she did. "Yeah," she replied quietly. "You did."

He brushed her tears away with his thumb, caressing her cheek one last time before turning away from her. "I guess I should get out of here," he said. "Where the fuck's Roman? I'm wearing his pants. Mine are in his washing machine. Roman!"

"Coming," Roman called as he jogged down the driveway, followed by Punk. "You can stay at my place for awhile until you get back up and running, ok?" He feared what would happen to his friend otherwise. He knew Dean needed guidance right now.

"Yeah," Dean muttered. "Sure. Can we go?"

"Dean, come on," Punk said as he reached him. "Wait a sec. I haven't even fucking shook your hand since I got back, man. Don't leave it like this." He extended his hand, but to his surprise, Dean threw his arms around Punk instead.

"You made me cry, you asshole," he snapped. "Mr. Straight edge is supposed to outlive me, remember? Never fucking do that to me again or I swear I'll track down your body so I can piss on your grave."

Punk couldn't help but laugh as he raised his arms to embrace his friend. "It's a deal," he said.

"Good. Now fuck off already. I need to go find pants that fit." They separated and he climbed into Roman's car. Roman nodded to the rest of them before speeding off, looking over with a concerned expression as Dean hunkered down in his seat.

"You all right?" Roman asked.

"No," Dean admitted as they turned the corner. "I'm not."

* * *

"That wasn't too bad, was it?" Punk asked as they headed back inside, draping his arm across AJ's shoulders. "Fuck, I still feel terrible. We'll never be able to repay him."

"Never," AJ agreed, looking back at the rapidly disappearing car before closing the door. "How can you repay a man for making him change his entire life, giving him a new one, and then taking it all away?"


	50. Chapter 50

"I'm scared," AJ whispered that night as she lay next to Punk, curled into his protective embrace. She'd been largely silent and somber for the rest of the day after Dean left, feeling too guilty and heartbroken to interact with the world much. Every time she thought about Dean drowning his sorrows in alcohol, she felt herself losing her strength all over again. "I'm so scared for him."

"I know," Punk replied quietly, gently stroking her hair and curling it around her ear. "I am, too. But he's a stronger guy than you give him credit for. Why do you think I asked him to take care of you in the first place? It's going to be hard, but he'll make it through this. He's a big boy." He smiled. He knew how hard letting go of Dean was going to be for her, and he had to be patient while she did.

She sighed, pressing her cheek against his chest. "What did I do to deserve you?" she muttered.

He froze. She still heralded him as her savior, and here he was still hiding such a big secret from her- he had yet to tell her about his relationship with Maria. The guilt of keeping that from her gnawed at him every time he held her, but he couldn't bear to break her heart even more than it already had been. She didn't need to hear that while she was mourning his death, he'd been spending his time in the company of another woman- sleeping with her, loving her even. "I don't deserve _you_," he muttered back, his fingertips burning as they brushed against her skin. He had to pull his hand away, to stop the pain he was sure it would cause. He would never deserve her.

"Touch me," she begged, cradling one of his hands between hers. "Please. I've had you back for almost a week, and I just want you back the way I used to."

He wanted to, so badly. He wanted to since the night he came back, but how could he bring himself to be with her when he was keeping something so big from her? _You don't deserve her, _he told himself, but her eyes were red from crying, and her hands were shaking as she grabbed onto him. She needed him to quiet her thoughts and kiss her pain away. He couldn't keep himself from her, no matter how guilty it made him feel to enjoy her body again.

"I love you," she whispered, kissing him again and again. "I love you and I missed you so much. Please, take care of me..."

He rolled her onto her back. "I'll take care of you," he promised, raising her arms over her head to pull her shirt off. She shuddered as he pressed his lips to her neck, and so did he- it had been so, so long since they had touched each other so intimately. She nearly cried again, feeling his calloused hands make their way down her torso. "God, I missed this." His thumb brushed over the crest of her nipple; she gasped, sucking in a tight breath.

"Feels…" she murmured, her back arching off the bed, "so good…" As much as she'd enjoyed her time with Dean, he could never make her feel what Punk could. He knew just how to make those little mews and sighs of pleasure tumble freely from her lips, even after she'd been emotional for hours.

"This was a little bumpier last time I was here," he whispered as his mouth hovered over the sweet, golden skin of her stomach. He left gentle butterfly kisses all the way down to her navel, tugging playfully at the waistband of her shorts. The animal in him wanted to strip her down and feed his own barbaric hunger, but that wasn't what she needed from him right now. She needed a gentle, tender touch to remind her how much he loved her, and would always love her.

She whimpered pleadingly as he paused to take off her shorts, sliding them slowly over her slender legs before raising his hips to remove his own. They both let out muffled gasps as he settled into the valley of her hips- delicate skin meeting hot steel. She could feel her insides rapidly turning to mush; after so long apart, she almost wasn't ready for how their bare bodies being together again would feel. It sent a rush of nervous electricity up her spine, empty core quivering in anticipation as his fingertips flicked teasingly at her entrance before finally parting her and eliciting the pleasurable moans he missed so much.

He captured her lips with his again in a slow, agonizing kiss. Oh how he missed those candy lips of hers, the sweetest dessert he'd ever tasted. She felt so wonderful against him- so smooth, perfect, and _his_. He wondered sometimes if that was one of the things he loved most about her, the fact that he was blessedly able to call his utterly perfect for him other half his own.

Slowly, tentatively, she let one of her hands snake between their bodies to descend below his waist. It had been a long time since she touched him this way… she was almost afraid she wouldn't remember how to please him. Would he still respond the way he used to? But as soon as her palm closed around his pulsating flesh, he moaned against her mouth, his knees weakening at her touch.

Spurred on by his obvious pleasure, she quickly pushed him over onto his back. "Huh?" he muttered with a frown as she climbed on top of him, straddling his waist.

"Shhh," she whispered seductively as she kissed her way down the inked muscles of his torso. "I'm making you happy, too."

"Baby, you don't have to- oh, _fuck_!" All of his objections were lost as he felt her tongue swirl up and down the most sensitive length of his whole body. "D-damn, April… oh my g-god…" She was setting every nerve ending on fire. Her lips worked eagerly on him, until he was throbbing almost painfully, absolutely aching with need for her. With a groan he pulled her up by the shoulders, flipping her onto her back and parting her thighs with his knee. She looked up at him pleadingly; he wasted no time in quickly searching the bedside table drawer for protection, covering himself and thrusting inside her for what felt like the first time in a lifetime.

She cried out, clutching his shoulders as he filled her. Finally, after so long, she felt whole again. His movements were at first slow and careful, sliding in and out of her. But he soon picked up speed, faster and faster until he was piercing her like a sword. Their bodies were slick with sweat as their hips clashed together, joining again and again in such a perfect harmony that left her absolutely breathless. "Punk," she moaned desperately, her voice heightening as she reached her glorious peak. "Phil… please…"

Her body went rigid as she clenched around him, every inch of her skin trembling as she sighed his name over and over. His own release wasn't far behind, coaxed out by her quivering flesh and the sound of his name spoken in breathy moans. He threw his head back as he rode out the final spasm, only managing to slide off her about halfway before he collapsed in exhaustion. He lay with his limbs still entangled with hers, the only sound in the room that of ragged breathing. They didn't speak; they didn't need to. Their locked gazes spoke volumes more than words ever could.

* * *

On the outskirts of the city, Dean was parked in an empty lot. He lay back on the hood of his car, tipping a bottle back to finish off the last of his beer. He was halfway through his first 6 pack, and he wasn't about to stop now. Swallowing hard, he chucked the empty bottle aside and reached for another one. He twisted the cap off and took a long sip, then glanced down at the photo in his other hand. It had been taken by Kaitlyn, in the hospital shortly after the twins' birth. It depicted himself, sitting up next to AJ on the bed as each of them held a baby. Neither of them were looking at the camera, focused completely on the infants in their arms. He'd been carrying the picture around in his wallet since the babies were born… but now, keeping this picture felt wrong to him somehow. None of the people in the picture were his anymore. No, AJ and the twins were back with their real boyfriend and father respectively, right where they belonged.

_I was just a placeholder, _he thought, studying the unbridled joy on both of their faces. _I never mattered. Even if Punk had really died that day, I never would have been able to be the guy she really needed for herself and her kids. _With a sigh, he put the picture down and picked up another. It was a copy of one all the boys had, a photo of the five of them at a restaurant. It had been taken, if he recalled correctly, only weeks before AJ wandered into their lives and changed everything. Looking at Punk, he suddenly felt insanely guilty for even feeling this way. One of his dearest friends was alive and well, and all he could do was think about everything he'd lost because of this.

And yet… had Punk never disappeared in the first place, he never would have had this time with AJ, Chris, and Rachel. He never would have been able to experience this happiness at all. But then he wouldn't have fallen in love with all 3 of them, and he wouldn't be feeling this pain right now. Damn it! Why didn't anything in his life make sense anymore? Why couldn't he turn back the clock and go back to the carefree days of working high-paying jobs and living his life on his terms? Why couldn't Punk have used a goddamn condom? If not for those damn brats' conception, he would still have his old job and his old life. He wouldn't be homeless, lying on his car in an abandoned lot drinking to the point of unfeeling.

_Fuck it, _he thought, shoving both pictures back in his wallet and tossing yet another empty bottle onto the pavement below. _Fuck it all. I don't care anymore. I __**won't **__care anymore._


	51. Chapter 51

_Dear Punk,_

_See? I told you I would write you a letter! You thought I would forget didn't you? But I didn't! Daddy made me wait until he thought you would be settled at home until I sent this but I don't think my letters would bother you would they? Of course not! I know you still think about me because I gave you that picture to take with you. You better keep in your room so you can think of me and Dominick always. I made more drawings for you to see too. Can you send me pictures of your baby? I bet it's really cute and I want to see if she looks like you! Mommy said I shouldn't call the baby a girl yet because I don't know if it's a girl or a boy but I just know it's going to be a pretty little girl just like me!_

_Not much is going on here. It's SUPER boring just like always! And the TV broke and we haven't got it fixed yet. How much does that suck? Mom says I shouldn't say suck but not having the TV so does suck! Daddy found a new farm hand to help him and Dom with the work. He's ok but he's nothing like you! But at least he doesn't live with us. He's not cool enough to do that!_

_We don't see Maria as much as we used to anymore. She still comes to get the crops Daddy gets for the orphanage but she doesn't come play with us anymore that much. She's super sad when we see her and I think it's because she misses you so much. I don't blame her! It's not as much fun without you here. She's taking this letter to the post office for me so it will get to you faster since the mail guy only comes once a week. Anyways I hope you get this and write me back real soon!_

_Love always,_

_Aalyah_

* * *

"That's Daddy's little princess," Punk said in a sweet, sing-songy voice as he scrubbed Rachel's back with a warm, wet washcloth. "Daddy's little girl. Daddy's going to kill the whole wide world if he has to, to keep all the bad men away…" A now 6 month old baby girl giggled back at him, splashing soapy bath water in her father's direction.

Not to be outdone, her brother complained loudly from beside her. "Bah!" Chris babbled incessantly, splashing as well. "Bah bah bah bah _bah!_!"

"Don't think I forgot about my future king of the world," Punk assured his son, smoothing over his thick, dark hair. "Come on kiddo, flex! Flex for Daddy! Grrrr!" Chris fell against his sister in a fit of giggles. "All right guys, let's get things moving. We have to get you guys out of here and dressed so we can get to the shop. Are you guys ready to spend the day at the shop?"

Shortly after Punk's return, Colt introduced him to the comic business. Punk was thrilled they were able to turn what had at first been a cover for their real profession into an actual, legitimate source of income. With the extra manpower in the business, it wasn't long before they were able to open up a store in the city, as well as their online business.

But even with the business improving, Dean still made himself scarce. He did as much of his work as possible from home (in his new apartment; he'd only spent a few days on Roman's couch before moving out), emailing it to Colt and only coming into the store at night to sort things when everyone else was gone. No matter how hard Punk and the rest of the boys tried to bring him back to the world, Dean resisted, preferring solitude to any comfort his friends could provide.

As painful as it was to see Dean in such a downward spiral, Punk didn't talk to AJ about it. He knew his girlfriend, still fragile over everything that had happened, would likely blame herself, and he couldn't bear to see her break down again. So he decided he would keep this from her as well for her own safety, even though he already had guilt that nagged at him every day from keeping something else from her. He managed to skirt around the part of Aalyah's letter that mentioned Maria as he read it aloud to AJ. She thought the little girl sounded so sweet, and insisted on sending her and Dominick presents back with Punk's return letter. It only managed to make Punk feel even worse about what he was doing.

"How's everyone doing in here?" AJ asked, leaning into the bathroom. "We've got to get going. I have work soon." She'd returned to the vet's office, finally, a few months ago. Punk usually watched the kids during the day, bringing them to the shop when he was working and staying home when he wasn't. It made him feel a little like Mr. Mom, and Colt and the others teased him endlessly for it.

"Sorry Mom, we were having so much fun with bath time that we lost track of time," Punk teased. He shut off the water and wrapped Rachel in a towel, handing her to her mother before grabbing Chris. "All right, thing one and 2. Time to get you guys dressed. Let's get you in those outfits your uncle Seth bought you so he'll want to help take care of you more today."

"I'm going to miss my little ones so much!" AJ cooed once they were dressed, planting a big kiss on each of their foreheads. "Are you going to be good for Daddy?"

"They're always good for Daddy," Punk assured her. "Where's the playpen?"

"In your trunk," she replied. "So is the stroller, and the diaper bag. Don't worry, I packed everything for you because I know you'd be hopeless and forget everything if I didn't!" But she was smiling. She loved how good of a dad he'd turned out to be. He treated them like his little treasures, doting on them constantly. He was making up for lost time with all of them, as much as he could. He loved his family life, and it didn't seem like he missed his days of crime and smuggling at all. She had to admit that she hadn't been this happy in a long time. She had her kids, her loving partner, and her friends. The only person missing was Dean, who was withdrawn much more than she would have liked. But she knew she had to give him time to come back to everyone.

Luckily for her own conscience, she had no idea how far gone he really was.

"Yeah yeah, superior mother skills, I get it," Punk laughed. "All right, go to work. I'm a good dad. I can handle it like I always do. I love you."

She leaned over to kiss him. "I love you, too."

An hour later, Punk had the babies in their playpen behind the counter at the shop. He was joined by Seth, who would be working side by side with him today. "There's my favorite kids!" he called happily, circling around the counter and grabbing Chris out of the pen.

"Don't get too invested in play time," Punk said lightly. "You have inventory to do."

"Yeah, inventory," Seth intoned, spinning Chris around in a circle before popping him back in the playpen. "And clean up, too. Dean left his fucking trash in the back room again. There's 2 empty 6 packs back there near the boxes I have to unpack."

"Watch your mouth around my kids," Punk warned automatically. "They're starting to pick up words."

"Right," Seth replied quickly. "Sorry. But seriously, he's done this _again_. He's getting worse, Punk."

Punk sighed, running a hand over his short hair before bracing his hands on the counter. "I know," he muttered. "I know. I just don't know what to do. He's avoiding all of us, especially me. At least he answers your calls. He barely even talks to me. Every time I ask if he wants to come over and see the kids, or just hang out and talk about things, he shuts down and won't speak to me for days."

"He spends all his time in his apartment getting fu-… messed up, or going out and getting messed up," Seth reminded him. "He's hardly ever sober anymore. I would say we should have one of those interventions or something, but he'd probably throw a bottle at us and walk out."

"Yeah," Punk agreed, "he would." He was silent for a moment, putting a stack of receipts that needed to be sorted in a file to look through later. "You know, I never expected our lives to be like this. It sounds pretty morbid but I always thought we'd end up dying over the years, doing all of the awful stuff that we used to do. But somehow we ended up owning a comic book shop, starting families…"

"Hey, _you _started a family," Seth pointed out with a laugh. "I know how to wrap it up, buddy!"

"Yeah yeah, just wait until Kaitlyn starts talking about marriage and kids," Punk teased. "You'll be on your way to that path before you even know it."

"You're not even married yet! I'm sure that makes AJ feel great, knowing you haven't popped the question yet. Have you even _thought _about popping the question?"

"I have," Punk admitted, "I just don't know how. I'm not good at this. Even asking her out on a date was weird and nerve wracking for me." He grumbled to himself quietly, looking down at his twins. Chris had fallen asleep, while Rachel was laying back next to him, chewing on the ear of her teddy bear. "Why does it even matter anyway? We live together, we have kids together. What's a couple of rings and a ceremony have to do with being a real family?"

"It doesn't," Seth replied, "but it's all really important to women. You should start thinking about it."

"Yeah," Punk muttered. He glanced at his kids again. "What do you think, baby girl? Should Daddy ask Mommy to marry him? You think she'll say yes?" Rachel merely gurgled at him in reply, flopping down again next to Chris as she held tight to her bear. "Maybe I should start looking at rings."

"Yeah, maybe you should," Seth said with a grin.

Business was slow for the next few hours, but that wasn't unnatural for the early morning. Things usually picked up at around noon… but surprisingly, the first person through the door wasn't a customer, but Dean Ambrose himself. Punk was in the back room sorting through the receipts from earlier when he heard the familiar chime above the door that someone had entered. "Hey, Dean," he heard Seth call out awkwardly over the counter. "What's… what's going on?"

"Hey," Dean replied, his voice gravelly. "I just came to drop off the- oh, fuck." He grimaced as he spotted the playpen behind the counter, where Chris and Rachel sat surrounded by toys. "Shit. I didn't know they were gonna be here… I should go."

"No, wait," Punk said quickly, hurrying out of the back room. "You should stay and hang out for awhile. Play with the twins. Come on. Don't just dip out."

"Why not?" Dean shot back. "They aren't my kids. I have no reason to see them."

"Just because they aren't yours doesn't mean you're not important to them," Punk reminded him. "You're still part of their life. They miss you."

"I don't… I don't…" Dean shook his head fiercely, even as both Rachel and Chris pulled themselves up using the side of the playpen to hold up their unsteady legs.

"Dee!" Rachel called, reaching for him feebly. "Deeee? Dee! Dee!" Since neither she nor her brother was speaking yet, they assigned random bits of baby talk babble to name each person they knew.

"No," Dean muttered, shaking his head again. "I can't, man. I've gotta go."

"Can't you see they want you?" Seth asked. "Come on. Stop hiding."

Dean looked back at the children he'd loved as his own, and the best friends he'd been avoiding. Could it really be so easy just to integrate himself back into everyone's lives? Taking a deep breath, he took a few steps toward the playpen… and immediately stepped back as Chris reached for him, giggling and bouncing up and down on his knees. "I can't," he said frantically, shaking his head rapidly. "Punk, Seth, I'm sorry. I have to get out of here."

"Wait, Dean, we have to talk about what you've been doing," Punk said quickly, moving between him and the door. "Were you here getting drunk last night? We found your empty bottles in the back room."

"What the fuck is this?" Dean growled. "I wasn't here to get fucked up. I was drinking while I was sorting inventory. There's nothing wrong with that. It ain't like I'm operating a forklift back here."

"And then you just drove home?" Seth asked. "After knocking back two 6 packs?"

"No, damn it!" Dean snapped. "I waited until I was sober enough to drive! What the fuck is wrong with you guys? You think I'd just go cruising through the city drunk off my ass? That's how little you think of me? Fuck that. I'm not going to stand here and listen to this." As Rachel and Chris began to wail, startled by Dean's harsh tone, he shoved past Punk and stormed out of the store.

"Well," Punk said with a sigh as he picked up Rachel to soothe her, "that went well."

"Did you really expect anything different when you asked that question?" Seth asked, grabbing Chris and bouncing him up and down gently. "He's not going to listen to us."

"Then what _will _get him to listen?"

"He's gotta hit rock bottom," Seth answered. "That's what it's going to take."


	52. Chapter 52

It wasn't easy for Punk to get his mind off of everything that was happening with Dean. It took him and Seth a little while to get the twins calmed down, and Punk wasn't sure if they were so upset because Dean had been yelling, or because he left. He hated seeing someone so important in his life falling so far down the hole, and not being able to do anything about it made him feel even worse.

"It's not your fault," Seth reminded him as he stocked the shelves. "He's got a lot of stuff to get over, yeah, but he's always hit the bottle way harder than me or Roman. That doesn't mean it's your fault he's going off the deep end pushing everyone else away."

"Just because I didn't put the bottle in his hands doesn't it isn't my fault," Punk muttered with a sigh, absent-mindedly feeding Chris spoonfuls of applesauce.

"Come on, cheer up," Seth offered. "Aren't you going _ring shopping _with Colt when Roman gets here to let you off soon?"

Punk couldn't help it; he had to laugh at that. "Yeah, we are," he answered. "But we're leaving Chris and Rachel here when we go. I can't think of anything weirder looking then two dudes and a pair of babies shopping for engagement rings. Did Kaitlyn text you back yet?"

"A little while ago," Seth replied. "She just got back from lunch with AJ and she sent me the ring measurement. I'll send it to you."

"I can't believe the two of you set this up so fast when we only just started talking about it this morning," Punk said with a chuckle, putting Chris down to feed Rachel. "How did she even get the measurement anyway? AJ would definitely know something was up if Kaitlyn suddenly grabbed her ring finger and wrapped a measuring tape around it."

"I have no fucking idea," Seth admitted. "It's a really subtle chick thing, I guess."

The store was fairly busy by the time Roman and Colt showed up. Customers were milling around, looking at potential purchases of comic books and other memorabilia. "Are you guys going to be able to handle everything while we're gone?" Colt asked uncertainly. "And the kids?"

"We'll be fine," Roman assured him as he ducked behind the counter to get more bags for the customers. But glancing at the line forming in front of the cash register, he grimaced. "It would be nice to have Dean here to pick up some of the slack, though." He didn't like how distant the 5th member of their group was being either, especially after trying so hard to pick him back up. "But whatever. Go buy your damn engagement ring already, Punk!"

"Punk's getting _married_?" a long time customer howled. "_Wooooo_!" The whole shop erupted in cheers as Punk and Colt walked out, both grinning.

* * *

"Ok little man, I know you're upset because Daddy isn't home yet, but it's time for bed," AJ said sternly, pressing a soft kiss to Chris's forehead. "Your sister's already asleep. She can deal with it. You have to, too!" But he continued to wail, refusing to be soothed. "Oh, I'm sorry, my sweet boy. Daddy was supposed to be home almost 2 hours ago. I hope he'll be back soon…" She'd had a particularly long day at work, having to take on several dogs that had been rescued from a fighting ring. It was never easy, seeing defenseless animals in such a terrible state, and being up to her elbows in blood for an entire day wore thin on her resolve. She picked up the twins from the comic shop after leaving the vet's office, and wished now Punk had just come home instead of going to hang out with Colt.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she heard the front door open and close. "I'm home," Punk called. "Where are you?"

"In the bedroom with Chris," she called. "Where the heck have you been?"

"Out," he replied cryptically as he joined them. "Hey, you, why aren't you in bed?"

"He wouldn't let me put him to bed," she replied stiffly, handing him the angry baby. "He's been waiting for you. Why didn't you come straight home after work?"

"I had some stuff to do," he answered. "Don't worry, I'm home now. Hey, buddy." He kissed his son's forehead. "It's time for bed now. I'll go put him down. You relax." She was shocked he didn't pick up on how irritated she was, but she decided to let it go until their son was asleep. After hours of trying to get him down, she needed a few moments to relax before even attempting to question Punk again.

He came back a few minutes later. "Done," he announced, kicking off his shoes and stripping off his shirt before lying back on the bed. "That was easy. I didn't even wake Rachel up." He smiled. "How was your day?" He leaned in to kiss her, but she pulled back.

"You can't just leave me home like that and not tell me where you're going," she said with a scowl. "I had an awful day at work and I came to pick up the kids and you weren't even there, and you wouldn't tell me where you were going! I get so scared when you go off like that, Phil. I know it sounds crazy but I get scared that you're never coming back when you don't answer your phone."

Punk grimaced, his heart dropping a little. It never even occurred to him that his sly disappearance may actually have hurt her. He sometimes had to remind himself that she'd gone nearly a year without him, while he only remembered going a day or two without her. "Baby, I never meant to scare you," he said quietly, "I just had something really important to do. If you'll just let me explain…" "Yeah?" she challenged, rolling onto her back and folding her arms. "Then where were you?"

"I was… shopping," he answered carefully.

"Shopping," she echoed. "With your best friend? For what? Why couldn't you just _tell _me?"

"I couldn't tell you," he replied. "It had to be a secret so I could make it a surprise… but you're kind of forcing my hand." He bit his lip. He hadn't planned on doing it this way… actually, he hadn't planned on how to do it at all. Candlelit dinners, romantic getaways… he wasn't good at that. He needed to just get it over with before he lost his nerve. Did he really want to marry her, seeing that the idea only came up just that morning? Absolutely. She was the love of his life. And maybe this would prove to her that he wasn't going anywhere ever again. With a deep breath, he wiggled his hand into his pocket and withdrew a tiny, black velvet box.

Her eyes widened as they fell upon the item he cradled in his hands. "Is that…" she whispered, sitting up, "is that what I think it is?"

"It might be what you think it is," he admitted.

Suddenly, his secrecy and dodging her calls started to make sense. "Oh my god," she muttered, a hand coming up to cover her mouth. "Here? Now?"

He laughed. "Yeah," he said. "Here and now. I don't want you to get mad at me if this doesn't go exactly as you dreamed it would when you were a little girl. If you want, I can get off the bed here and get down on one knee…" He started to slide off the bed, but she grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"Wait, wait!" she cried frantically. "Just do it! Right now!"

With a broad smile, he opened the box to reveal the gold band with the diamond set atop it (the purchase had hurt his wallet just a little, for sure). "All right," he replied. "April Mendez, will you do me the honor of becoming April Brooks!"

She didn't answer right away, remaining silent for a moment. But then suddenly, to his surprise, she slapped his arm. "That's not how you're supposed to say it!" she snapped.

"Huh?" he asked. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean! Say it right!"

"All right, all right," he said. "April, will you marry me?"

"_Yes_!" she shrieked, loud enough that he had to cover his ears. "Yes yes _yes_!"

His heart rate started to thankfully return to normal, the hardest part finally over. Grinning ear to ear, he gently took her hand in his and slid the ring onto her finger- perfect fit. "Beautiful," he said with a smile.

"It's amazing," she hasped with wide eyes, gazing down at the new jewelry that glittered on her finger. "And it fits so well! How did you…" Then she gasped. "_Kaitlyn_."

"That's right," he replied. "I had a secret operative involved in this."

"Do I really deserve this?" she whispered, rolling into his embrace as her eyes shimmered with joyful tears. "You, our kids, this house, being happy?"

"You deserve everything I can give you and so much more," he answered, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. Then he grabbed his phone. "Can you give me your hand? I need to take a picture and send this to everyone. Colt said you'd tell me to fuck off because the diamond was too small, and when I told Dolph about it he bet Zack and Evan 50 bucks that I'd choke and wouldn't do it." She giggled but obliged, extending her hand so he could snap a photo. "Great. Now to just forward this to the boys…" His phone beeped with confirmation, and suddenly his grin dropped.

"What's the matter?" she asked with a frown.

He looked at her with a grimace. "I accidentally sent it to Dean," he replied.

* * *

Dean was lifting weights in his living room. It was one of the few activities he needed to be sober for, other than driving and eating. For some reason, being alone gave him the urge to start working out again. When he wasn't sleeping off a headache or working, he was pumping iron in the modest one bedroom apartment he'd rented after getting sick of sleeping at Roman's. It was sparsely furnished; he had a bed and dresser in his bedroom, a table and two chairs in the kitchen, and a couch, coffee table, and TV in the living room. He lived simply, feeling no reason to have more than thin furnishings.

He was just about to complete another rep when his phone beeped. Grumbling, he slid off the weight bench and crossed the living room to grab his phone off the table. Who the hell needed him, anyway? Maybe it was Colt asking for the next batch of purchase order confirmations. But no, it was a picture message… from Punk. Frowning, he tapped the image and waited impatiently for it to load. It was a picture of a woman's hand, with a proudly displayed diamond ring. 'She said yes!' the caption cried.

Then it made sense. This was AJ's hand. Punk had proposed, she accepted, and the bastard sent him a picture to prove it. "You motherfucker," he muttered, squeezing the phone in his hands. "You motherfucking son of a bitch!" He threw his phone to the floor, kicking what was nearest to him- the coffee table. _I was going to do that, _he thought miserably, sinking to the floor. _When the kids were a year old, I was going to buy a fucking ring and make her mine for good. _But now she was Punk's forever.

Time for another drink.


	53. Chapter 53

"So AJ's really ok with this whole courthouse wedding deal?" Colt asked, pulling his chair back from the table and sitting down. It had been about a week since Punk popped the most important question of all, and already they were diving into the business of planning the wedding. "She doesn't want some fairytale dream wedding like every other chick does?"

"She was the one who suggested it," Punk replied, picking up his spatula and walking over to the grill to flip the burgers. "It makes sense when you think about it. My folks are dead and I don't talk to my brother, and her family cut her off when she moved here. They don't even know she has kids. And most of our friends are, well… right here." He gestured around the backyard table where Colt, Roman, Seth and Kaitlyn were seated. Of course there was one missing (he declined the invitation to their barbeque), but no one mentioned Dean's absence.

"Dolph, Evan and Zack will have to come too since they didn't make any money on their bet," Seth reminded them with a laugh. "Didn't Dolph say you were going to choke?"

"He did," Punk confirmed. "Jackass."

"Watch your mouth around the babies," AJ reminded him as she came out the back door, Chris and Rachel propped against her hips. "Is the food almost ready yet?"

"It better be," Roman cut in before Punk could answer, grabbing Rachel from her mother and setting her on his knee. "I'm about to eat this kid if it's not. _Roar_!" He opened his mouth dramatically and pretended to bite the tiny ponytail that sat atop her head. She collapsed against him in a fit of bubbly giggles, pounding his chest with her little fists.

Punk smiled as he watched them, then turned his attention to his bride to be. "It'll be a little while," he told her, putting his spatula down and closing the grill. "They need more time to cook."

"Well in the mean time you can take your son," AJ said with a chuckle, leaning forward.

Punk gratefully accepted Chris from her outstretched arms. "How's my little guy?" he asked with a smile, brushing his son's unruly hair back from his forehead. "Have you been a good boy?"

"Daaa," Chris babbled back happily. "Dadadadadaaaaa!"

"I'm going to go get the plates and cups because the rest of you are too lazy to do it," Kaitlyn announced as she pushed her chair back from the table and stood up. She disappeared into house, only to poke her head out a moment later, empty handed. "I think someone's at the door."

"I'll get it," Punk offered as Chris swung his arms around; he chuckled. "Ok, _we'll _get it." Kaitlyn held the door open for Punk to pass through it, and he headed to the other side of the house. He allowed himself to hope, a little naively, that maybe it was Dean. Maybe the lost but just as important member of their group had had a change of heart and decided to join them after all. But as he leaned over to glance through the peephole, he found it wasn't Dean at all. It was someone who at first he didn't even recognize, but whose appearance quickly sent a painful shock down his spine. It couldn't be. This wasn't real. He quickly closed his eyes but when he opened them again, the sight before him remained the same. This was really happening, right here, right now.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he choked out as he opened the door.

"Oh Punk, please don't be mad," Maria begged. "I just… I had to come see you! Oh my god, this must be your baby. You had a son!"

"Twins, actually," he replied tightly, shifting Chris's weight to his other hip. Then he shook his head. "Maria, you shouldn't be here. I have… AJ… how the fuck did you even find out where I live, anyway?"

She looked down for a moment, hesitating. "I've been taking Aalyah and Dominick's letters to the post office," she admitted. "I wrote your address down. I've had it for a few months. I know it was wrong and you must think I'm crazy, but Punk, I can't stop thinking about you! When you left, I-"

His heart was thudding wildly against his chest. This whole situation was impossible, and yet she was still in his doorway. "No," he interrupted her, pinching the bridge of his nose. "_No_. We are _not _having this conversation, do you understand me? You can't be here, Maria. I have two children, a fiancé, and a life I missed that I've been trying to catch up on."

"But I _love _you," she protested, her eyes watering. "After spending 8 months in my arms, you just walked out of my life without a second thought. Do you have any idea what that did to me? I haven't been able to get you off my mind or out of my heart!"

"I know," he lamented. "And I am so, so sorry about how all of that happened. I never meant to hurt you, and I don't expect you'll forgive and forget so quickly. But we both knew what we were getting into when we got together. We always knew there was a chance I would remember where I came from and realize I had a family back home. Do you think this has been any easier for me, trying to forget how long you and I spent together and how much I cared about you?"

"Yes," she spat spitefully. "You had friends and kids and a girlfriend to go back to. You could just forget about me and go back to your life. I didn't have _anyone_! All I had was Rey's family, and his kids would never stop talking about how great you are and how much they missed you. How was I supposed to just go on with my life when everything around me reminded me of you?"

He couldn't let her put that guilt on him and add it to the guilt he already carried. If he did, he would break. "So then what was your plan in coming here?" he asked. "Did you think by coming to my home, where I live with my family, and interrupting my life would make me want to leave my fiancé and my kids and go back to you because of the time I spent as your amnesiac farmhand boyfriend?" It was only after the words had left his mouth did he realize how harsh they sounded.

"So you're saying what we had didn't matter?" she whispered, on the verge of tears again.

"It mattered," he admitted. "Of course it did. But… it's over now. It's been over for months. I've gotten back to my life, and you need to get back to yours too."

"You just don't understand," Maria protested. "I had to come. I need… closure…"

"Phil?" AJ called from behind him. "Is everything ok? Who's there?"

_Fuck, _he thought. He'd hoped he would be able to get Maria to leave before AJ came looking for him, but that ship had sailed. He need to think fast and explain himself, but he was utterly speechless. No words came to mind. He had been hoping to never have this conversation, firm on keeping this secret forever, and suddenly being faced with a forced confession left him dumbfounded.

"I'm Maria," Maria said sheepishly. "I'm so sorry, this must be awkward."

AJ merely smiled, stepping forward to extend her hand. "AJ," she replied. "Are you… a friend of Punk's?"

But Maria didn't take her hand. Instead, she looked back at Punk with a perplexed expression. "You didn't tell her?" she asked quietly. "She doesn't know?"

"Didn't tell me what?" AJ asked suspiciously. "I don't know what? Punk, what's going on?"

"You hid me?" Maria asked with disbelief. "Like some… dirty little secret? How could you not tell her?"

"Punk, what the _hell _is going on?" AJ demanded, her voice rising sharply. "Who is this woman?"

"Oh god, what have I done?" Maria whispered, putting a hand to her forehead.

But Punk still didn't say a word. He looked back and forth frantically from AJ to Maria, caught between his past and his present as Chris began to cry. He quickly began muttering soothing words to his son, bouncing him up and down gently as he quietly delayed the inevitable and tried to pretend that none of this was happening.

"I was his girlfriend," Maria squeaked, still in shock at her own behavior. She'd created a warzone, simply by walking through the door. She knew now that she should have listened to Rey and stayed away from him… now it became clear to her the amount of pain she was about to cause. "We were together in Mexico, for about 8 months. As soon as he remembered who you were he broke up with me and came back here. I had no idea he didn't tell you about me. If I did, I wouldn't have come."

AJ blinked slowly, tilting her head as though she hadn't heard this woman right. "Phil?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "What is she saying? What is she talking about? She's… lying right? Tell me she's lying! _Tell me what the fuck is going on_!"

Hearing his mother's obvious distress, Chris only began to cry harder. The commotion quickly summoned everyone outside, who rushed into the house to discover the scene before him. "What's wrong?" Colt asked, alarmed.

"AJ, I…" Punk began helplessly, but he faltered as his heart sank. How could he even begin to explain this? "I didn't want to tell you because I didn't… didn't want to hurt you…"

"Tell me the truth!" AJ demanded hotly, smacking him in the arm. "Tell me the fucking truth then! Did you fuck her, huh? Did you tell her you loved her?"

"Whoa whoa, calm down!" Seth called, quickly moving to get between them as Kaitlyn rushed to grab a wailing Chris from Punk's arms. "What the hell's going on? Who's this girl?"

Dismayed, Punk looked around the room at everyone, from his friends to his children to ex girlfriend to his distraught fiancé. "We were already strained when I got back," he continued, looking at her pleadingly. "I didn't want to make things worse and hurt you even more by telling you what I did while I didn't remember who you were. I'm so sorry April, I-"

"And you had the nerve to get mad at me for being with Dean when I thought you were _dead_, while you were fucking around with some girl down in Mexico?" AJ shrieked, cutting him off. She was beside herself with grief, and not even being in front of her children and a stranger could stop her fury. "And how long were you planning on keeping this from me? Until after we got married? Until we were together for 10 years? Until you died? When were you going to tell me the truth?"

"I didn't want to hurt you," he repeated desperately. "I just… didn't want to hurt you."

"No, of course not!" she cried, throwing up her arms. "You were just going to wait until your ex girlfriend showed up on your damn doorstep to tell me she existed!" The feeling of her world coming crashing down around her was renewed with a vengeance. "You know what? I'm not going to be engaged to a liar! Take this stupid thing back!" She ripped the engagement ring from her finger and tossed it at him. "Oh my god… I can't… I can't…" Tears streaming down her cheeks now, she rushed from the house and slammed the front door behind her. She jumped into her car and took off, intent on getting as far away from this pain as possible.

"I'm so sorry," Maria whispered, reaching to grasp Punk's arm. "I never meant to-"

"Don't fucking touch me!" Punk shouted, yanking his arm out of reach as he cradled the engagement ring in his hands. "Get the fuck out of my house, Maria! You ruined everything!"

"Did she?" Roman asked quietly as he rubbed Rachel's back, trying to soothe her (the yelling made her upset, too). "Or did you, by not telling AJ in the first place?"

Punk didn't answer. He could only look down at the ring and wonder how he'd managed to let everything fall to pieces yet again.


	54. Chapter 54

At first, AJ had no idea where she was going as she drove off into the rapidly darkening evening. She was actually surprised she was able to keep control of the car, with how heavily her chest was heaving and how blinded she was by the constant stream of tears. But somehow she kept her hands firmly grasped on the wheel, breezing through the city and making aimless turns at each light. After nearly half an hour of twists and turns (during which she had to shut off her phone to put an end to Punk's calls), she found herself in the empty parking lot of an abandoned building on the outskirts of the city. Perfect, she thought. Empty and alone- just like her heart felt right now.

She parked in the middle of the lot and turned off the car, finally able to sink against the steering wheel in utter despair. How could this have happened? Why did Punk lie to her about having a relationship while he'd been in Mexico? Why didn't he tell her as soon as he got back? She would have been hurt, yes, much the same way he'd been upon discovering her relationship with Dean… but much in the same way, she wouldn't have been able to blame him any more than he had blamed her. He didn't even know she existed at the time, just as she'd presumed him dead and gone. But to keep everything from her… not tell her he'd slept with this girl Maria, tell her he loved her… thinking about it made her heart sink painfully into the pit of her stomach. She sobbed hopelessly, unable to bring herself to do anything else.

She didn't know how long she sat there, crying against her steering wheel. The outside world was a blur to her. It could have been 3 minutes or 3 hours. But after some time had passed, she was startled by someone knocking on the driver's side window. With a gasp she sat up.

"AJ?" Dean called. "Is that you?"

Shocked that Dean of all people had been the one to seek her out, she opened the door. "How did you find me?" she asked, wiping her eyes with a tissue from the box in the glove compartment. She was able to see now that his car was parked a short distance from hers.

"Find you?" he echoed curiously. "I wasn't looking. I come here all the time."

"For what?" she asked with a frown, glancing around the lot again. She couldn't possibly imagine what would draw him here so regularly that he happened to show up just as she did. He looked away for a moment; his shameful inability to meet her gaze told her what she needed to know. "My god, really, Dean? You come all the way out here to get trashed?"

"Hey, I don't need your fucking approval," he shot back defensively. "What do you care? I'm not even your-" He sighed, frustrated. "What are you doing here, anyway? Isn't today that stupid barbeque Punk tried to invite me to? Shouldn't you be there?"

She'd managed to control herself throughout their conversation so far, but faced with that question she couldn't hold it in anymore. "Oh god," she gasped tightly, her voice broken by sobs. "He… he…"

"Quit blubbering and tell me already," he said impatiently. He hated being so cruel with her, but he hadn't seen her in a month or two and cutting off his emotions to her was the only way to keep himself from tumbling over the edge.

"Punk had a girlfriend when he was living in Mexico," she blurted out finally, leaning against the steering wheel again as she cried. "He never told me about her, and she showed up at our house today! He loved her, Dean. He slept with her. And he was never planning on telling me he was with her!"

"What?" he cried, smacking his palm angrily against the roof of the car. "You're fucking kidding me! _He _gave _us _shit for being together while he was gone, when he had someone else that whole fucking time? That's bullshit! That's complete fucking bullshit!"

"Please stop yelling," she begged, turning back to look at him. "I'm already upset. I don't need-"

"Well I'm sorry if it makes me a little fucking pissed that he's a goddamn hypocrite!" he snapped. "He's been hiding it this whole damn time while I've been feeling guilty as hell for sleeping with his girl, and missing you, and missing the kids… _fuck_!" He slammed against her car again, and watched as she cried harder. "Damn it, stop crying already. I didn't come here to spend my night comforting you."

"No one asked you to!" she shrieked. "No one asked you to do _anything_, Dean!"

"You think you're having a rough time right now AJ?" he growled "Yeah, your tattooed superhero shacked up with some girl while he was over the border. Big fucking deal! He still came home to you as soon as he remembered, and in a little while when you calm down and go home this bitch will be gone and you'll still have your perfect family." He kicked at the loosened gravel of the pavement beneath his feet. "Yeah, no one asked me to do anything. Oh, except for when Punk asked me to take care of you, and then I ended up falling in love with you and those fucking kids who aren't even mine! You know what, fuck this. I'll go get fucked up somewhere else." He started walking back to his car.

She was silent for a moment, sitting stunned in her car as he walked away. First Punk's omission of truth had turned her whole world upside down, and now suddenly she was hit with this… shaking her head quickly, she hurried out of her car and closed the door behind her. "Dean, wait!" she called, running to catch up with him. "What did you say?"

"Which part?" he asked, turning around to face her.

"You know which part," she prodded. "You never told me that when we were together. You told me you loved the kids… but you never told me you loved me. Why?"

"I was scared for a long time," he admitted finally with a sigh, leaning back against his passenger door. "I didn't think you were ready to hear that from me. But it wouldn't have mattered anyway… especially after Punk came back. I knew you would always love him more. There was no point in even saying it." He shook his head. "You shouldn't be worrying about this right now. You have other shit to deal with. You have to figure out what you're going to say to Punk once you get back."

"I don't want to talk about that," she said quickly, blinking away tears. She didn't want to picture that woman Maria's face, or picture her wrapped in Punk's strong, protective embrace while she cried without him… no. She didn't want that. She couldn't bear think about it any longer and be reminded of how long he kept such a big secret from her.

"Then what _do _you want to talk about?" Dean asked pointedly. "You can't just fucking ignore what's going on in your life, AJ. You-"

Put AJ wasn't even looking at him. She was staring past him, into the passenger seat where she saw two full 6 packs of beer waiting for him. "You really did come out here to get drunk," she whispered.

"Yeah," he said flatly, nodding. "When I get sick of drinking at home, I come here."

"Why do you drink so much?" she asked.

"It's the only way I can forget," he admitted. "When I'm dizzy and blacking out and throwing up, I don't have to think about you and the kids."

"You want to forget about us?" Her bottom lip trembled.

"I want to forget about how I feel. I want to forget about loving you so I can move the fuck on with my life, but I fucking can't. When I wake up in the morning, all I think about is you. When I tried to get rid of that picture I keep in my wallet, I couldn't fucking do it! So that's why I have to keep drinking, AJ. To make it all go away."

Looking up at him, she suddenly realized that she knew now what it was like to feel the way he felt. With the sudden appearance of the girl Punk hid from her, she knew now what it was like to feel like everything she thought about her life was being pulled out from under her. Where was she supposed to go from here? She'd thrown her engagement ring back and took off running. "I just don't know what to do now," she gasped, starting to tear up again. "I'm so lost."

He watched her awkwardly as she shrank against his car. It broke his heart all over again to see her like this. He wanted to comfort her, to gather her into his arms and promise her everything was going to be ok, even though he knew how bad of an idea that would be. But she looked so upset… she needed _something_, and he shamefully wanted to hold her again. Against his better judgment, he pulled her away from the car and into his embrace. "Shhh," he murmured over her hair. "Shhh. It'll… it'll be ok."

"How?" she muttered against his chest. "How will it be ok?"

"I'll make it ok," he promised, even though he didn't know how he would keep that promise. He tipped her chin up so she could look at him. Her beautiful brown eyes held just as much pain as they did last year. He'd been able to make her pain go away then… could he do the same now?

"Tell me what I'm going to do," she whispered.

He didn't answer. Instead, he kissed her.

Neither of them was prepared for the rush of emotions that flooded both of them when their lips joined again. It was so intense, she almost had to pull back. But he had her pinned up against the car, pouring all of his pent up rage and love into her with an increasingly passionate kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, easily falling back into such blissful feelings with him.

His hands encircled her back. She could feel his palms, warm and comforting through the thin material of her shirt. They were getting hotter and hotter, sending waves of fiery hot passion through her whole body. A little foolishly, she thought he might even leave a scar. But she felt so safe and comfortable in his arms, she almost didn't care. She shivered as his mouth made its way down her neck, moving the strap of her tank top aside to capture her collarbone between his teeth. She leaned her head back against the car, her eyes slowly beginning to drift shut.

"You want to go into the car?" he murmured against her skin.

Yes. The car. Great idea. She slid out of his grasp and opened the door to the backseat. As soon as she turned around, he pushed her down into the back seat, shut the door and climbed on top of her. Even as all her sensibilities screamed at her to turn back, she couldn't bear to turn away from him. She needed him right now, so she could stop thinking about all the pain. "Take off your shirt," she ordered.

He raised his arms up, but it wasn't fast enough for her. She yanked it up over his head, tossing it on the floor before removing her own. "I missed you so much," he groaned into her neck, nipping hungrily and dragging his tongue slowly across her skin. She tasted just as sweet as he remembered. "Fuck, I missed you so fucking much."

She could only let out a quiet mew in reply, running her hands up and down his ribcage. His body ached for hers; this she could easily tell from his shuddering reactions every time her fingertips brushed over another inch of his skin. She too reacted just as sensitively; his hands were like firecrackers over her skin, setting her stomach aflame as they descended to the top of her jeans.

Even as much as she was enjoying him, the guilt over what she was doing was almost too strong to ignore, but there was no turning back now. "This is wrong," she whispered as they kicked off their shoes.

"I know," he whispered back, unbuckling her belt. It was the same exchange they had during the first evening they spent together. Somehow, it fit well now.

He slid her jeans down carefully, running his open palms down her legs as he stripped her bare. He was moving slowly now, gently unwrapping her as though she were a gift to him. He wanted to make this last as long as possible, to offset the pain of the inevitable regret they would both feel afterward. At least he would be able to have her back with him for now, even if it was only for a little while.

"Touch me," she begged impatiently, squirming beneath him. "Please."

His response was to reach under her back, fumbling for the clasp of her bra for a moment before finally tearing it free. He seized her chest immediately, swirling his tongue around the tight peak of one of her nipples and thumbing the other relentlessly. She moaned with abandon as her back arched, relishing in the sinful pleasure he gave her. Her nails raked across his back, holding on for dear life.

His skillful tongue descended the length of her torso, reaching the lacy fabric of her panties. He yanked them down without warning, prying her legs apart. Her whole body quivered in anxious anticipation; he gave her a savage grin before pushing a finger between her already slick folds, moving back up to capture her mouth as he did so. She cried out against his lips as he rotated his finger slowly, flicking teasingly at her swollen bud. She had to break their kiss to cry out, waves of pure physical joy rolling constantly through her body and scorching her veins.

Her body was still paralyzed with pleasure when he climbed off her, leaning back to unbutton his jeans. He pushed them down, fishing for his wallet to find the condom he knew was stashed inside. Just as he grabbed it, she suddenly sprang to life and shoved him back into a sitting position. "What are you going to do to me?" he hissed as she climbed onto his lap.

"Shut up," she ordered, silencing him with a rough kiss. She bent her head and attacked him, working the sensitive flesh of his neck mercilessly between her teeth. A broken groan escaped him, hands circling loosely around her lower back. His head tilted back against the seat to give her more access, and she responded by ravaging his neck. He was so distracted by the devious vampire in his lap that he didn't even notice as she grabbed the condom and tore it open. He gasped as he felt her roll it on him, then let out a strangled moan when she reared her hips back and sank down into his throbbing length.

God, it felt so good to be inside her again. So incredibly, indescribably good. The slow, tantalizing gyration of her hips felt like it was lifting him straight to heaven. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, quiet, breathy moans slipping out as she slid up and down on him. "_April_," he sighed, digging his nails into her thighs. He hadn't felt such a deep, ecstatic joy in so many months.

But even as she drew him closer and closer to bliss, he knew he couldn't bear to let it end yet. With a groan he seized her by the hips, rotating both of them to slam her down on the seats. She cried out as he thrust into her mercilessly. He pierced her wet core like a sword, in and out over and over again as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He was carrying her far, far away from this cruel world, staving off her pain and giving her the satisfaction she needed to pretend she was somewhere else.

Her ankles tightened at the small of his back as she clenched in pleasure around him. Her cries of his name filled the steamy car, and he was easily coaxed to his own powerful release soon after. He gasped for breath as he gently lowered his body onto hers.

He knew what he should have done then. He should have told her to go home to her family and forget this ever happened. But what selfishly said instead was, "let's go back to my place."

She should have gotten dressed, gone to her car, and driven home to tell Punk everything. Instead, she lay in Dean's arms and whispered back, "ok."

* * *

**Author's note: hey everyone! Sorry this one took a little longer than normal. I would have posted it earlier but I had some internet issues for a little while. Anyways I wanted to say something about some reviews I've gotten. If you don't like the story for whatever reason (not liking the brief AJ and Dean pairing, Maria showing up, or whatever it is) you should probably stop wasting your time by reading it. No one is forcing you to stick around and continue to read it and there are probably other stories out there by different authors that will suit your tastes better then what I'm writing. I would like to thank everyone who has stuck with me this whole time though :) Thanks and see you all next chapter! -MyChaosTheory**


	55. Chapter 55

"What the fuck have you done?" Punk shouted again at Maria, throwing his hands up in exasperation after putting AJ's ring in his pocket. His veins were boiling with fury; he could barely control himself around this woman who he once loved, who was now crying in front of him. "You have _completely _fucked up my life, Maria. Do you understand that? You couldn't just let it go! You had to stalk my address from a little girl's letter so you could show up like a crazy psycho-"

"Hey, whoa whoa whoa!" Roman cut him off abruptly, moving to pull Punk back. "You need to calm the hell down, all right? Yeah, she shouldn't have shown up out of nowhere. But you fucked up too, pal. You didn't tell AJ about her and now she's hearing all of this for the first time from the other woman herself instead of from _you_, which is how it should have been."

"Punk, I'm _so _sorry for all of this," Maria sobbed. "I should have just called, or written a letter, or-"

"Or maybe you should have just moved the fuck on and forgotten about me!" Punk snapped.

"Pull it back," Colt warned sternly, grabbing him by the arm. "Don't you think you're getting mad at the wrong person? I don't think AJ would have reacted this way if she knew from the beginning."

"Why doesn't everyone just shut the fuck up?" Punk shouted, his temper flaring again. "I'm done with this shit! Get this bitch out of my house!" He needed to get away from everyone he burst at the seams. He shoved angrily past Colt and to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him and locking it. Nothing mattered to him right now, other than how badly he knew he'd screwed things up. He knew in his heart he was getting angry at the wrong people, but he couldn't help it. All he could think of was AJ's pained expression as she ran out the door.

"Punk?" Kaitlyn called softly a little while later, knocking on his bedroom door. "Seth and I are going to take Chris and Rachel tonight, if that's ok."

"Why?" he growled through the door.

"We just thought you might want some time to yourself," she admitted. "And AJ still hasn't come back or answered any of our calls so…" She trailed off into silence, leaving the sentence unfinished.

"Sure," he muttered with a sigh. "Whatever. That's fine." He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he knew he was in no condition to care for his distressed children right now. His hands were still shaking with rage even as he clasped them together to control them, and his temper being displayed in front of them would surely serve to terrify them even more. _Some father I am, _he thought as he heard Kaitlyn walk down the hallway, presumably to collect some things from the twins' room. _Some fiancé I am._

He was still wallowing in his own misery, propped up against the door, when another knock came- this time it was Colt. "Hey, Roman's taking Maria back to her hotel," his best friend told him. "And Seth and Kaitlyn already left with your kids. So… it's just you and me. Can you stop being such a fucking diva and open the goddamn door now?"

With a grumble Punk stood up, flicking the lock open on the doorknob before falling back onto his bed. "This is such bullshit," he groaned, covering his eyes. "How can _not _telling someone something so insignificant ruin lives so badly? It's not like she asked me if I had a girlfriend and I lied."

Colt howled with laughter. "Shit, there is _so _much wrong with everything you just said," he wheezed, trying to get his breath back. "First of all, I definitely wouldn't say this is _insignificant_. You were together with a girl for 8 whole months while you were away. That's a big deal dude. And second just because you didn't say anything doesn't mean you didn't lie. You hid something huge from her. That's why she's upset man. Why didn't you tell her anyway? She can't blame you for having a relationship while you didn't remember who she was any more then you can blame her for being with Dean while she thought you were dead."

"We were really strained after I found out about Dean," Punk explained. "Things were tense and she was trying to deal with the heartbreak of getting over him. I didn't think she needed to deal with knowing I was with someone else while she was trying to let go of me."

"But that's been over for awhile," Colt pointed out. "You've had months to tell her. Why didn't you?"

"I don't know ok?" Punk admitted finally. "I don't fucking know. I didn't want to tell her. I didn't want to see her cry and try not to picture me sleeping with another girl. I know it's already hard for me trying not to picture her with Dean sometimes."

Colt sighed, running a hand over his hair. "I get it," he said. "I can't say I agree with it, but I get it. But do you understand now how badly you fucked up?"

"Of course I do," he replied, finally sitting up. "I fucked up big time, and I probably just screwed up Maria's head too. I just don't know how to fix it. Fuck I don't even know where AJ took off to!"

Colt blinked. "Think about it," he said slowly. "I think you know exactly where she went."

Punk stared at him in confusion for a moment. "What do you mean?" he asked, but it didn't take him long to come to the crushing realization. "Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!" He stood up and smacked his palm against the wall. "You don't think she would try… or that he would… you don't think anything would happen between them, do you? You don't think… oh fuck…"

"Calm down," Colt advised. "You don't know anything yet. I probably shouldn't have even said anything. With the way he's been acting lately, he probably didn't even talk to her. Come on, let's go clean up your back porch. There are burnt burgers in the grill and plates and cups everywhere."

Punk followed him outside silently, but his mind was a million miles away. He tried calling AJ again, and Dean as well. Twice. Both of their phones when directly to voicemail.

* * *

AJ spent the entire night curled in Dean's embrace, her naked form pressed to his. She so desperately desired his comfort that she was able to ignore the numerous empty beer bottles that littered his bedside table. That night, she didn't care about how terrified his constant drinking left her; all she cared about was being tucked safely into the arms of a man who didn't lie to her. He gave her exactly what she needed, stroking her cheek gently and taking the brunt of her sadness as she cried. All he wanted was to love her again, and she was giving him that chance tonight.

"You don't have to go," he told her softly the next morning, after making love to her again. He was sitting up in bed, back against the wall with her lithe frame draped across his chest. "You can stay." There was a slight edge of desperation in his voice. He sounded like he was pleading with her.

"I can't," she whispered back, holding tightly to his chest as she looked up at him. She was starting to return to reality now, the realization of what they both had done falling heavily on her shoulders. "I have to go back, Dean. He's the father of my children. We live together." She paused, biting her bottom lip for a moment. "We're engaged."

"Are you?" he asked, taking her left hand and running his thumb over her empty ring finger. "You're not even wearing your ring."

"Yes, we're engaged," she replied firmly. "I have to fix things. I just don't know how."

"He doesn't deserve you," he muttered, then sighed with frustration and turned away from her. "Fuck. I'm sorry. That was… really stupid of me to say." _I'm the one who doesn't deserve you, _he thought miserably. _I'm such a selfish bastard. _

"No, _I'm _sorry," she replied tearfully as she sat up, scooting to the edge of the bed as she attempted to dry her eyes. "I shouldn't… have even done this. I shouldn't have come back here. This was a mistake and I'm so sorry for doing this to you."

It became painfully clear to him then that she hadn't really wanted this at all. What she'd wanted was comfort. She'd used him as a temporary measure of relief, and now that she had come back to reality, she was going to leave and he would be alone, again. He felt a sudden, terrible rush of a flurry of emotions- he felt infuriated, foolish, and horribly depressed all at the same time. He was torn between wanting to punch a hole in the wall, hide underneath his blanket and never say a word to anyone or grab AJ by the shoulders, shake her, and demand to know why she'd broken his heart yet again.

But instead, all he said was "fine. Go."

"Dean, you know I love you-" she began.

He turned to her, cupping her cheek and pulling her to him for one last slow, gentle, passionate kiss. "Go," he repeated as he broke away, lying on his side facing away from her. "Just go."

She didn't say another word after that, too ashamed of herself to even speak. He felt the bed dip slightly as she got up, and he heard the shower in his bathroom running shortly after. 15 minutes later, he heard his front door open and shut. Just like that, he was alone again.

* * *

"I'm sorry I was too upset to have you guys last night," Punk told his children, sitting up against the wall as he watched them scoot around the floor in their bedroom. Seth had dropped them off early this morning, before heading to the shop to open up. "Daddy's really sorry. But Uncle Seth told me you had a fun night with him and Aunt Kaitlyn. That's good right?"

Rachel looked back at him blankly before turning back to her toy piano. Her stubby little fingers hit the plastic keys with no particular motion, and she giggled as disjointed notes came out. Suddenly, she began to wail- Chris had grabbed a fistful of her hair, and was yanking at it with a devious smile.

"Chris, hey, cut that out!" Punk ordered sternly. "You don't pull hair. Stop that!" His son instantly released his grip on his sister's hair, glancing back at his father guiltily. "That wasn't nice, Chris. Give your sister a kiss. Come on now, do it." Chris crawled a little closer to Rachel, planting his best baby imitation kiss on his sister's cheek. Satisfied, Punk smiled. "Good. That's my boy."

"Dada, mama?" Rachel asked suddenly, turning her head to look at her father. "Mama? Mama?"

His daughter's innocent question was like an iron grip on his heart. "Mommy will be back soon," he lied after sucking in a tight breath. In truth, he had absolutely no idea when his fiancé (if she was even still that) would come home. Her phone was still going straight to voicemail, and no one had heard from her since she took off the previous evening. He could only hope she would return to him soon, and that he wouldn't be hopelessly and utterly broken by the time she did.

He heard the front door open when he was in the kitchen later with the twins, having placed them both in their high chairs and feeding them lunch. He dropped Rachel's spoon when he saw AJ walk in, frozen as it clattered to the floor. "You're… you're back," he stammered, standing slowly. "You came back."

"We need to talk," AJ squeaked, looking down at the floor guilty.


	56. Chapter 56

The fractured couple waited until their children were fed and down for their naps to broach the ever looming subject again, both of them unwilling to have what could well be a life changing discussion in front of the babies (who were starting to pick up more words and sounds lately). Half an hour after AJ returned, Punk emerged from the twins' room and joined her in the living room. "They're out," he announced as he sat down next to her on the couch.

AJ only nodded in reply. Since she got home they hadn't said much to each other, tiptoeing around each other and being polite as they cared for their children. It was almost as though it was too dangerous to say more than the bare minimum needed to communicate for the sake of the babies. She knew she had to speak, but she had no idea how to even start this conversation.

"I'm glad you came back," Punk said finally, breaking the awkward silence. "I… was afraid you might not." He was only aware of the meaning of his fearful statement once it let his mouth, and suddenly felt awful for even saying. He looked away, ashamed that he would even think she might abandon her children. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply-"

"I know," she assured him quickly. She knew that wasn't what he meant. "I know. It's ok." She paused, her mind suddenly sparking. "But what's not ok is that you lied to me. For months you didn't tell me you had a relationship while you were in Mexico. You told me everything about your life there, _except _for her! You left her out on purpose and you lied to me, Phil. Why?"

Again, he felt the red mark of shame creeping up his neck. "I was scared," he admitted quietly. "You spent almost a year crying over me, trying to get over me and raising our kids without me. How could I tell you I spent that time with someone else, especially after the way I reacted when I found out about you and Dean? We were just too… fractured when I got back."

"So what about after, when we were doing well?" she prodded him. "You've been back for 5 months, and it's never crossed your mind even once to tell me about Maria?"

"Of course it has!" he protested. "But… time was passing and it just seemed less important… I didn't think mattered anymore. I didn't think it was worth opening up a new wound for something that happened in the past."

"So you never planned on telling me at all?" she asked, watching as he bit his lower lip and shook his head sadly. "I can't believe you were just going to lie to me for the rest of our lives! That's such a huge thing to keep from me, especially after you promised so long ago never to lie to me like that again! Did you think I was going to be mad at you? I would have no right to be! You had no idea who I was, and I was in a relationship myself while you were gone!"

"You were already dealing with having to let go of Dean," he explained, but his reasoning sounded off to him even as he said it. "I didn't want to break your heart again."

"Those are all stupid excuses," she said flatly.

"I know," he admitted, "it _is _stupid… I really don't have any excuse. I should have told you. But then she showed up and forced my hand… I'm so sorry about all of this, AJ. I'm sorry about not telling you, and I'm sorry that Maria showed up, and I'm sorry for the way I reacted." He disgracefully recalled his incredible, borderline violent outburst following his ex girlfriend's appearance.

"Well…" she said hesitantly. Now it was her turn to look away in shame. "I can't say I reacted any better." She took a deep breath; this was going to be difficult to admit, but she was determined to tell him the full truth and hide anything, no matter how much it hurt him to hear or her to tell. Secrets had almost destroyed them twice, and she wasn't going to let it happen a third time. "After I left yesterday, I ran into…" She swallowed hard to stop her voice from breaking. "I ran into… I spent the night with…"

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I know," he said quietly, burying his head in his hands. He'd been trying not to thinking about since he and Colt came to the conclusion the previous night, but there was no pushing it out of his mind now. It was all out in the open. "I know."

Her eyes widened at him. "You know?" she asked. "How?"

"It made sense," he replied, looking up, but even as he did he couldn't hold back his cold stare. It was one thing to speculate heavily… it was another thing entirely to hear it confirmed straight from her mouth. "You weren't at Colt's, Roman's or Seth and Kaitlyn's, and you left your wallet on the table so I knew you didn't go to a hotel. He was the one who comforted you while I was gone… it's not too strange to think you would go to him for comfort now too."

"I didn't go looking for him," she snapped. "I ran into him in the parking lot of that old factory outside the city. I went there to cry, he went there to drink. We talked and…" She looked down at her hands, deflated. "It just… happened, and then we went back to his apartment and…" Her lower lip quivered as she fought back tears. "I'm so sorry Punk. I never meant for any of this to happen. I didn't mean to betray you like that. I was just so upset and he was there and…"

His hands were curled into fists now, resting tensely on his knees. Again he had to picture the love of his life in the arms of another man, being touched by him, kissed by him… and this time, he couldn't excuse it. "I'm not going to tell you it's ok, because it's not," he told her flatly, trying his best to hold down the anger simmering just beneath the surface. "We were both in the wrong, but what you did… I'm mad, AJ. I'm fucking furious. You slept with another man. I have to think, is this going to happen every time we have an argument, you running off to sleep with Dean whenever there's trouble?"

"What?" she cried, jumping up off the couch. "No! Of course not! This was a mistake, a one time thing that will never ever happen again! Why, are you keeping any other big secrets from me, Phil? Besides, this wasn't just an _argument. _This was a huge part of your life that you were planning on hiding from me for the rest of our lives. But I can't believe you would think so little of me!"

"I don't," he argued, standing up as well. "But you can't blame me for wondering, can you? I never thought you would do anything like this."

"No," she whispered. "Neither did I. But I love you, baby! I love you so much! If I didn't, I wouldn't have been so upset when I found out about Maria, and I wouldn't feel so terrible and guilty about what I did."

"But you love him too," he pointed out, painfully.

"Of course I do," she admitted freely. "I always will, because of what he did for me and the kids. But I don't love him the way I love you, Punk. You're the one I want to spend my life with, because you're the one I fell in love with and the one who showed me I didn't have to be a scared, broken hearted Jersey girl anymore. You gave me my children, and you almost died trying to save me. _I love you_."

In his heart he knew all of it was true, but he couldn't get the thought out of his head. "I know," he muttered with a sigh. "I know. I love you too, baby. But to be honest, like you've wanted me to be, I think I'm way more upset with Dean then I am with you. You were devastated and upset and he knew that, and he took advantage of you. I should knock him across the room next time I see him."

"Punk, no!" she pleaded. "You can't!"

"Why not?" he asked heatedly, his fists clenching again. "He pounced on you in a moment of weakness!"

"He's hurting, Punk," she said. "He's hurting so bad and he's losing it. He's drunk almost all the time and he barely even knows what he's doing anymore. It's not all his fault! Please don't hurt him!"

He was silent for a long, terrifying moment, his heated gaze never wavering from hers. But finally his posture relaxed a little, his fists uncurling. "Fine," he relented. "I won't touch the bastard. But don't expect me to welcome him back with open arms like last time."

"Thank you," she whispered, spontaneously throwing her arms around his neck.

He raised his arms to wrap around her back, tucking her head beneath his chin. "I'm sorry," he muttered into her soft hair, rubbing her back in rhythmic circles. "About everything."

"I'm sorry too," she muttered back, pressing her cheek against his chest. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Neither of them was sure how long it would take them to recover from this. This would be a rough hurdle to get over, perhaps even more so then when AJ found out about Punk and the gang's criminal activities. They were both happy to be back in each other's arms, but both of their thoughts were directed to the same place, both with anger, sadness and regret.


	57. Chapter 57

"Look alive boys!" Punk called, clapping his hands before picking up a large cardboard box and setting it on the counter. "We've got shiny new promotional posters to put up." He reached in the drawer for the box cutter, slicing open the packing tape to open the box they'd received from Marvel distributors.

"Someone's in a better mood today than yesterday," Colt noticed, grabbing the poster frames from the back stock room and getting them ready to put the new ones in. He was here to work with Punk, Roman and Seth even though he hadn't been scheduled to work today. They normally didn't need more than 2 or 3 people to run the store front during the week days, but because Dean (predictably) didn't show up last night to take care of sorting inventory, they needed extra hands today.

"Of course I am," Punk replied pointedly. "My fiancé put her ring back on."

"It couldn't have been _that _easy," Seth said, leaning back against the counter. "Come on."

"It wasn't," Punk agreed. "And I'm not saying we're completely back to normal either. But… we're doing as well as we can after everything that happened. That's all I can really ask for right now."

"You know, you really fucked up by not telling her about Maria," Roman pointed out. "Seriously, I don't know what the hell was going through your head when you decided to keep her a secret."

Punk grumbled, pressing his palms against his eyes for a moment. "I know," he intoned. "I know. Trust me. I came to terms with that yesterday." Shaking his head, he went to pull the posters out of the box. "Hey, Colt told me you took her back to her hotel after AJ left. What happened, anyway?"

Roman sighed. "Well…"

* * *

_Roman knew he had to get Maria out of there. With AJ taking off and Punk in one of the most volatile moods he'd ever seen, this woman would clearly be out of her depth and as much as he could be upset with her for showing up like this unannounced, the gentleman in him just couldn't leave her here. She was still sobbing when he took her gently by the arm and led her outside. "Hey, relax," he said calmly. "How did you get here?"_

_"I… I took a cab from my hotel," she sputtered, attempting to dry her tears._

_"All right," he said with a nod. He started toward his car. "Come on. I'll drive you back."_

_"Oh I couldn't- I couldn't ask you to do that," she said quickly._

_"You're not asking, I'm offering," he clarified._

_"But I just ruined your best friends' lives!" she cried. "You must be so mad at me… I should just get another cab to go back."_

_"You're still a human being," he said flatly. "I'm not going to leave you here so Punk can scream at you some more and make you feel worse than you already do." He reached for his keys. "Besides, we're too far from downtown for you to hail a cab. Get in." She finally relented, weaving her way around the other cars in the driveway to get to the front passenger door of Roman's. "Where are you staying?"_

_She told him which hotel she had booked, and he nodded and pulled the car out of the driveway. For what seemed like an eternity, they rode together in awkward silence. Neither of them had any idea what to say, or if they should even say anything at all. After all, the two had never even formally met, and it had only been under terrible, potentially life shattering circumstances. But he couldn't stay silent for long. He just had to know. "Why did you come here anyway?" he questioned._

_"Do you really want to know?" she questioned, still looking down at the floor of the car in shame._

_"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't." He truly wanted to get to the bottom of this._

_"I just had to," she explained, lifting her head to look at him with reddened eyes. "I wish I knew a better way to say it without seeming like a total lunatic. But… I didn't have much here in the States, and I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life other than that I wanted to help people. When the opportunity to help run the orphanage came up, I left for Mexico and didn't think twice about it."_

_"Orphanage?" he echoed._

_"Yes," she replied. "In the town where the family lives who Punk stayed with, I work at an orphanage. I help set them up with adoptions when I can, and I also teach them English."_

_"Damn," he muttered, shaking his head. This girl was charitable for sure. He was beginning to see that perhaps she wasn't quite the home wrecker Punk made her out to be. "Go on."_

_"Well…" She was silent for a moment, but quickly found the courage to keep talking. At this point, what did she have to lose? "I'd been there for a few years but I still didn't know where my life was headed. I liked my work but I felt so… alone sometimes. Then Punk showed up, and I didn't feel alone anymore. He was just what I needed… he was perfect for me."_

_Despite everything he was hearing, Roman couldn't help but chuckle. "You clearly don't know him like I do," he said, then dropped his smile. "Sorry. Keep going."_

_"I finally felt like I found someone who understood me," she continued quietly. "I loved him so much."_

_"But you knew about his memory loss, right?" he asked, and she nodded. "So you both knew there was a chance he had a family out there somewhere. You had to know there was a chance he would wake up one morning, remember everything and leave you."_

_"I know," she admitted. "We never really talked about it. I guess we both were just trying to enjoy our lives in the moment and not really think about the future. I thought that since I knew it could happen, I would be prepared for it. But when he left I felt so alone and hopeless. I knew he had a girlfriend and a baby at home, and that it would be stupid to think he would just leave them and come away with me, but I just had to see him again. I needed…" She trailed off._

_"Closure," he finished for her._

_"Yeah," she whispered, nodding._

_"Well, did you get what you needed?"_

_She laughed harshly. "Me showing up made his fiancé throw her engagement ring back at him and run out the door," she reminded him. "Then he called me a crazy bitch. I think I might have ruined their relationship. So no, I don't think I got what I needed at all."_

_He pulled into the parking lot of her hotel and stopped the car, resting his elbows on the steering wheel with a sigh. He felt so bad for this woman. While he didn't agree with her method of appearing on Punk's doorstep unannounced, he could see that she clearly had no ill intentions for coming to Chicago. She was just a lost, scared young woman with a broken heart- much the way AJ had been when she and Punk first got together. "Look," he said finally, "I know what it's like to feel alone like this. It sucks doesn't it? Shit, I haven't had a girlfriend in awhile. But that's another story. My point is, you can't let it consume your whole life. There's more to it then heartbreak you know? You seem like a good person. Hell I wouldn't be caught dead working for an orphanage no matter how much they paid me. Maybe you just need to get out of that town and away from those memories. Find another charity to work for. Don't get all hung up on one guy who, and trust me on this one, is just a tattooed jerk." He chuckled._

_This finally got a smile out of her. "Thank you," she said. "Really. I think I needed to hear that."_

_"Good," he replied. "They like to think I'm just the brawn of the group. But I'm definitely not as much of an idiot as the others… most of the time."_

_She laughed as she got out of the car. "You're… Roman, right? Punk showed me a picture of you guys."_

_"Yeah, that's me," he confirmed. _

_"Well thanks, Roman." She walked around to his door, leaning through the window to give him a kiss on the cheek. She thanked him once more before turning to go into the building. He smiled as he watched her walk away. Maybe she would be ok after all, and maybe he'd done something right for once._

* * *

"Well look at you, Mr. Healer Of Heartbreak," Seth teased as he hung up an X-Men poster.

"Ah, shut up," Roman grumbled. "I was just trying to be a nice guy."

"Are you sure you didn't-" Colt started.

"All right, all of you shut up," Punk ordered. He was glad Roman had been able to make Maria feel a little better (considering all of the awful things he'd said to her), but he didn't want to think about his mistakes right now. He just wanted to get to work and move on with his life. Unpacking the rest of the posters, he headed to the stock room for another box.

"So what's going to happen with Dean?" Seth asked in a hushed tone. "Didn't he-"

"Yeah, he did," Colt replied quickly.

"So is he out of the business?"

"Fuck, I don't know. I don't think Punk's even thought about it. I know he's really pissed at him, though. I guess as long as he doesn't show up anytime soon, we won't have to-"

The chime that signaled the door opening rang out as Dean dragged himself inside the store. He looked like a wreck; his hair was unruly and hung in front of his face, his jeans and T-shirt were wrinkled and his hands were shaking uncontrollably. "Where- where is he?" he demanded, his voice slightly slurred.

Seth rushed out from behind the counter. "You shouldn't be here!" he hissed.

"Why?" Dean growled. "Because- because he's pissed at _me _for fucking things up _again_?"

"Shit, you're completely fucking wasted," Colt groaned. "How did you even get here?"

"I-I drove here," Dean grumbled in reply. "What do you care?"

"You _drove_?" Roman echoed in disbelief. "How are you even still alive? You can barely walk."

"We need to get you out of here," Seth said quickly, grabbing him by the arm. "Come on. I'll drive you home before Punk-"

"No, bring him out here," Dean snapped, shaking his arm free of Seth's grip. "Come out here, you son of a bitch! Come on! Quit hiding in the fucking back!"

With the sound of the commotion from the front of the store finally reaching him, Punk emerged from the stock room. "What the hell is going on out here?" he asked, and then his eyes narrowed as they landed upon the drunken man near the door. "You've got some nerve showing up here." He couldn't believe Dean had the courage to walk into the store after what he did. His fists clenched instinctively.

"Punk, come on, not now," Roman urged. "He's drunk. We're going to take him home."

"Yeah, he's drunk!" Punk snapped. "That's all he is now, a drunken loser who goes around fucking other people's girls!" An insurmountable rage was building up inside him now. He knew he promised he wouldn't raise a hand to Dean, but seeing him now, he wasn't sure if he could keep that promise. With images of Dean throwing AJ down in the back of his car and peeling off her clothes flooding his mind again, the anger boiling in his veins was about to reach a breaking point.

"You don't deserve her!" Dean shouted, starting toward him. Seth seized him again, holding the violently drunk man back even as he struggled. "All you do is hurt her and lie to her! You… you ruined my life, you son of a bitch! Why couldn't you just fucking stay dead?" He broke out of Seth's hold, launching himself at Punk. The two of them tumbled back to the floor in a flurry of punches.

Colt, Seth and Roman were on them in an instant, trying desperately to yank the furious men apart. But Dean's intoxication only served to further his strength, and even as Roman and Seth pulled him up, he shook them off and dove at Punk again. Punk struck back, two well aimed kicks connecting with Dean's stomach and sending him reeling back. He jumped to his feet to hit again, only to be met with a powerful right hook to the jaw.

"Enough, enough!" Colt shouted, standing between them and shoving them both back. "You assholes aren't going to tear each other apart in this store, you got that?"

"Come on, what the fuck is wrong with you two?" Roman added. "You almost gave your lives for each other and now you want to kill each other?"

"Fuck this," Dean growled. "Fuck all of this and fuck all of you. You're always on his side! Won't even let me punch him in the fucking face when he deserves it. I'm going home." He turned around shakily and started heading toward the door.

"Dean, you can't!" Seth called, racing to catch up. "You can barely stand. Let me take you home."

"Fuck off," Dean shot back.

"Then give me your keys," Seth ordered. "I don't know how you managed to drive here without killing yourself or someone else, but I'm not letting you risk that again."

"I don't care anymore!" He turned and gave his concerned friend a rough shove. The force sent Seth reeling, falling back into a rack of superhero key chains and falling to the floor. Dean used the opportunity to bolt out the door, rushing to his car.

"Oh fuck," Colt groaned. He and Punk (who was still burning from both Dean's punch and criticism, but that didn't mean he wanted the man in mortal danger) tore after him into the parking lot, while Roman hurried to help pull Seth back on his feet.

Dean was already in his car. "Hey Punk!" he shouted from his rolled down window. "Want to come take a look at my back seat? It's where your _fiancé _rode my dick before I threw her down and fucked her till she was screaming my name! How's that feel huh? I can give her what you can't!"

"Son of a bitch!" Punk growled, his good Samaritan intentions gone as his temper flared again. How dare he talk to him like that! He was going to pull him out of that car and teach the bastard a lesson…

Before Punk could reach him, Dean had already torn out of the parking lot. But something was wrong. His hands couldn't tighten very well on the wheel… the road in front of him seemed fuzzy. He was even dizzier than before, probably from one of the blows to the head he'd received. He could faintly hear car horns honking furiously at him, but for some reason the sounds seemed so far away. Before he even realized what was happening, his head nodded forward and everything around him spun. The last sound he was aware of before everything faded was that of broken glass and scraping metal.


	58. Chapter 58

**Author's note: hey everyone I'm sooo sorry this has taken so long! I had this chapter finished days ago but I haven't gotten my internet back until now. So without further interruption here is the next chapter! Thanks everyone!**

* * *

"I bet you guys are glad Mommy has the day off today," AJ said as she rubbed sunscreen into Chris's pale skin. "Now you don't have to sit in the store and pretend those silly faces your uncle Seth makes at you are funny. Ok Rachel, now you." She was getting ready to put them in their small inflatable pool in the backyard, although she was tired after laying awake most of the night curled in Punk's arms. While she was aware that their relationship was far from where it had been before Maria showed up on their doorstep, she was just happy to be able to be back in his protective embrace again. He'd given her her ring back, and she wore it now proudly as she got her children ready to play in the pool. She knew they would take time to heal, but she didn't care how long it took as long as they were together.

As she pulled Chris's bathing suit up, she heard Punk's ringtone blare from her phone. "Just a second," she told the babies cheerfully as she stood up and crossed the room to grab her phone off the dresser. "It's Daddy. He's probably checking in on us. Hello?"

"AJ you have to get to the hospital!" Punk cried frantically.

"What?" she replied with alarm. "Why? What happened?"

"It's Dean," he answered shakily. "He… he got in a car accident, he was drinking… you just have to come quickly! We just got to the emergency room and they're working on him now."

Her heart seized in horror as she stopped dead in her tracks. Drinking. A car accident. Did this mean Dean had done the one thing he promised he would never do- drink and drive? _Oh God, this is all my fault… _"What about the kids?" she squeaked when she found the strength to speak again. "I can't bring them to the emergency room."

"Uh… call Mrs. Guerrero," he suggested. "If she's not home or she can't watch them you'll just have to bring them with you. But hurry!"

As soon as they hung up, she directed her shaking fingers to dial their next door neighbor's number. They had become friendly with the kindly middle aged woman not long after Punk returned from Mexico, when she needed help with a few home repairs. She occasionally babysat for the twins when their parents needed a night out; hopefully she would be available now, when they needed her most. "Hi, Vickie? Yes it's AJ… do you think you could watch Chris and Rachel today? I know it's last minute but our friend just got into a car accident and… yes. Yes thank you."

Her hands were still trembling as she hung up, rushing to put her children in their playpen. _Please hang on, _she thought desperately as she searched for her keys and wallet. _You idiot, I can't believe you did this! But you have to hang on… _She almost forgot to kiss the kids goodbye before she left, graciously thanking Vickie on her way out the door.

* * *

"Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?" Punk cried. "You!" He approached the first person in scrubs with an ID badge he could get a hold of. "Where's my friend?"

"You came in with the crash victim, right?" the nurse asked, and Punk nodded. "I'm sorry sir, but he's in the trauma unit right now. You can't see him until he's been stabilized."

"But I'm his emergency contact," he urged. "You have to tell me _something_."

"If you'll just go back to the waiting room, we'll know right where to find you."

He threw up his arms with a frustrated sigh as he turned around, heading back to the corner of chairs where Colt, Roman, Seth and the newly arrived Kaitlyn sat. "I can't do this," Punk growled as he paced back and forth. "I can't just fucking _wait _out here while he's in there and they're working on him… fuck this is all my fault… if we hadn't gotten into that-"

"No," Colt said firmly. "Don't even start with that all right? You couldn't have prevented this. He's the idiot who decided to get in the car while completely wasted. You didn't put him behind the wheel."

Punk fell silent and shrank into the nearest chair. He couldn't believe that only half an hour ago he'd been at Dean's throat and ready to tear him apart, and now he was suddenly regretting every harsh word he'd ever spoken to the man. _I'm so sorry, _he thought miserably, clutching the photo from his wallet. He studied Dean's wide and genuine grin, wondering if the brother he'd all but lost at this point would ever smile like that again.

"Punk?" came a cry as AJ ran into the emergency room, looking frantic. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks were outlined with tear stains. He immediately hopped out of his chair and ran to her, gathering his devastated fiancé into his embrace. She grabbed onto his arms desperately, fresh tears springing to her eyes. "How is he?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"We don't know yet," he admitted, leading her to the waiting area.

She sat down next to Kaitlyn, who reached over to hug her. "They won't tell us anything yet," Kaitlyn replied, squeezing her hand. "We just have to wait."

"How did this happen anyway?" AJ asked, her grip tightening on Punk's sleeve.

Seth cleared his throat awkwardly as Roman and Colt looked away, anywhere but AJ's gaze. "He showed up at the shop," Punk replied finally. "He was completely drunk. He started yelling and we… we got…" He looked down shamefully. "We got into a fight…"

"What?" AJ cried. "Punk you _promised _you wouldn't hurt him!"

"I know I know," he muttered. "But he hit me first! And the things he said…" His fist clenched again and the memories of the venomous words Dean spat at him. He shook his head. "He took off in his car before anyone could stop him and crashed into the guardrail right outside the parking lot."

"Oh my god," she whispered, clinging to his sleeve again. "He didn't hurt anyone else did he?"

"No thank god," Roman growled irritably. "But he could have, the selfish idiot."

"Roman relax," Seth ordered. "Not now."

"So we just have to wait?" AJ asked frantically. "We just have to wait and see if he'll live?"

No one answered her.

hr

None of them were sure exactly how many hours had passed as they all sat in the waiting room but it had to be several at least. Punk was particularly restless, often getting up to pace the room back and forth. As terrible as he felt about everything (had he perhaps asked Colt to look after her instead, or even just made sure Kaitlyn would have been able to stay at the house with her, none of this would have happened), he knew no one blamed themselves more than AJ did. He could see agony written all over her face as she curled up in her chair, clutching a handkerchief.

How right he was about the awful thoughts running through her mind. She could trace her regrets back all the way to the first time Dean kissed her. She shouldn't have kissed him back. She should have just accepted his apology and moved on. Maybe then he wouldn't have fallen in love with her and destroyed his life over it. No, it was even further back than that. She shouldn't have demanded that he and the rest of the boys give up their criminal ways. That had been selfish of her. Maybe she shouldn't have even gone out on that very first date with Punk and saddled him with a life he may not have wanted…

_This is all my fault._

"Is there a Phillip Brooks?" a doctor clad in green surgical scrubs asked suddenly as he entered the waiting room. "Emergency contact for Dean Ambrose?"

"Yes that's me!" Punk replied instantly, as he and everyone else stood up. "How is he?"

"He's out of surgery and in recovery now," the doctor replied. "He had a few broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder and some other assorted fractures. One of his ribs punctured a lung so we had to operate immediately to repair the tear."

"Oh god," AJ gasped tightly, pressing herself to Punk's chest. "But he's going to be ok right?"

"He'll recover from the surgery yes," the doctor answered hesitantly. "But there's something else we found. Among one of our standard tests is a liver function test. His liver… is failing. I don't normally see such damage in someone so young. This kind of scarring is generally found after decades of heavy alcohol abuse. The only explanation is extremely heavy drinking. With as much damage as he's taken, I'm shocked he's been walking around a functioning normally for this long."

"He's been… oh fuck…" Punk muttered. He looked around from Colt and Roman to Seth and Kaitlyn- they all knew the truth about Dean's drinking, about how he had a bottle in his mouth from the moment he woke up until the moment he passed out on his living room floor. He brought alcoholism to a whole new level. But none of them had ever imagined that mere months of this (even as heavy as it was) could have made him this sick. "What does this mean then? What do you have to do to for him to recover?

The doctor sighed, removing his glasses. "I'm going to be honest with you Mr. Brooks," he said flatly. "While the liver is one of the most resilient organs in the human body, you can't survive when it isn't functioning properly. He would need a liver transplant to live."

"So then… then we'll just get him on a transplant list then right?" Punk asked with a nervous nod.

"I'm afraid not."

"I know he doesn't have insurance but that isn't a problem," Punk assured him. "I'm paying for everything. Shit, a transplant is going to be expensive… but I can manage it." He still had plenty of money saved from his days working for Alberto; he knew the others did too.

"Mr. Brooks, let me explain," the doctor said gently. "Donor organs are in short supply so one of the criteria for being put on the transplant list is leading a healthy lifestyle that won't compromise the new organ. That means no smoking or drinking or anything of that nature. Normally a potential liver recipient would need to remain alcohol free for at least 6 months before he could be considered for a transplant but your friend doesn't have that long. I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you this."

"_No_!" AJ shrieked, collapsing in a fit of violent tears. Kaitlyn ran to pull her up, as Punk was in no condition to comfort her. He was backed up against the wall, slowly sliding down to his knees.

_Dean… I'm so sorry…_


	59. Chapter 59

**Author's note: hey all! Before we get started I just wanted to mention something real quick. I got a guest review telling me that liver failure doesn't just pop up that quickly and if Dean only had a little while to live everyone around him would know it. I did a little research on liver failure and found that out before I wrote the last chapter but I needed to fake some medical science just a little to fit the scope of the story. Thank you to that guest reviewer for pointing it out to me though. I appreciate you reading and I hope this part of my story does not dig up any painful memories for you. Thanks again everyone and enjoy the next chapter!**

* * *

The whole world felt like it was spinning and Punk could barely see what was in front of him. The doctor's words had been so jarring- Dean was _dying_. He'd been guzzling alcohol almost constantly since the day Punk returned and now it was going to be the nail in his coffin. "This can't be happening," he whispered, clutching his temples with widened eyes. "This can't… be happening…"

AJ was fairing no better with the news. She clung desperately to Kaitlyn, sobbing out all of her pain and regret into her best friend's shoulder. "Oh god," she gasped. She couldn't even begin to imagine what was going to happen next. Dean was likely still unconscious, recovering from surgery… who was going to tell him about his impending fate when he woke up? Who would he blame? Would he be furious or would he be happy to finally be free of the pain that was killing him?

But while AJ and Punk broke down and Colt was keeping Roman from punching the nearest wall, Seth was deep in thought. If he remembered correctly from his medical classes… "Wait," he said suddenly, getting the attention of everyone including the doctor. "Is it possible to use a living donor if someone was willing? Could we get around the transplant list guidelines that way?"

The doctor thought for a moment. "I suppose it would be possible but it's risky," he replied.

Finally having yanked Roman away from the wall, Colt frowned. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"The liver can regenerate itself in time," the doctor replied. "It's possible for a healthy donor to donate a portion of their liver to someone whose liver is failing. If there are any willing donors available, they would have to be tested to see if they're a match."

Punk immediately stood up, filled with a renewed sense of hope. "Then test us!" he demanded, looking around at Colt, Seth and Roman, all of whom nodded. "Test all of us!" If any one of them was a match for him, there was chance, however small, that they could save him.

* * *

Punk was insistent that they all be tested right away. He sat impatiently as he waited for the nurse draw blood from them. Colt, Roman and Seth were first followed finally by Punk. But the nurse was having difficulty finding a vein to stick the needle in. "I'm- I'm sorry," she said, flustered. "There's just so many tattoos… it's really hard to find a good vein." She flicked at the crook of his arm again several times before shaking her head unhappily.

He let out an angry, frustrated sigh. "Then take it out of my fucking neck if you have to!" he snapped. "I don't care what you have to do just fucking do it already!"

All the while AJ remained out in the waiting room with Kaitlyn. She was stunned by the boys' selflessness and by the entire situation itself. If one of them turned out to be a match she knew they would have to undergo more testing. And then a risky surgery… and what if none them was compatible? That would mean certain death for Dean. Too shaken by all of the possibilities, she was silent.

A little while later, a nurse came to fetch them from the waiting room. "We've moved Mr. Ambrose from recovery into his room," she said. "He's fallen asleep but you can sit with him if you would like."

"What about our tests?" Seth asked.

"Your blood panels are still in the lab," she replied. "We'll let you know as soon as they're back."

None of them were prepared for the way Dean would look when they saw him. His face was a wreck of blue and purple bruises, his shoulder was wrapped in a confusing array of bandages and his upper torso was completely wrapped as well (likely hiding the nasty, jagged opening left by his lung surgery). AJ gasped at the sight of him, shrinking back against the doorframe; she'd never seen him looking so weak and so helpless before.

"He looks… so small," she whispered.

"He looks like he got hit by a truck," Roman said.

"More like crashed into a fucking guard rail," Colt muttered discontentedly, looking down with a sigh at the young man he and Punk had cultivated into a killing machine. The injured man groaned quietly in his sleep, shifting slightly before falling silent again. "I can't believe you did this you fucking idiot."

Dean slept throughout the rest of the day and night. The group decided they would take shifts, sitting with him in groups of 2. But this plan was quickly thrown out the window when Punk and AJ refused to leave that evening. "I just… I can't leave," AJ told Seth and Kaitlyn when they showed up a little after 7 PM. Part of her was afraid Dean would slip away if they left him for too long. She looked to Punk, sure he would disagree, but he was adamant about staying too.

"I just don't know what to do with the twins," he said. "Our neighbor is babysitting them right now."

"I guess we can pick them up and take them for the night if you both insist on staying," Kaitlyn said.

"Don't kill yourselves over this," Seth added. "You both have been here all day and you need to go rest eventually. Besides, you do have kids you know."

"I know," Punk muttered. He already felt bad enough, choosing Dean over them for tonight. But they were only babies. They would enjoy their night with their aunt and uncle, none the wiser to the greater situation at hand. They had no idea that the man who helped raised them for the first few months of their lives was dying right in front of him. "Just… give them a kiss for me."

"I'm so scared," AJ whispered a little while after they left, curling herself against Punk's chest. "What if none of you are a match? What if dies baby? This is all my fault…"

"Hey cut that out," Punk ordered curtly. "You need to stop blaming yourself for this."

"But Phil he _told _me why he's been drinking so much," she insisted. "When I saw him in the parking lot, he told me he drinks to forget about loving me and the twins. If I had just turned him away when we first… when it first happened, he wouldn't be-"

"You didn't put him behind the wheel," he interrupted, repeating what Colt said to him earlier in the day. "Even if you're the reason he was drinking, you didn't force him to get drunk and get in the car. That's on him." But she wasn't sure she believed him.

They spent hours just watching him sleep. Despite what Punk said earlier, regrets were swimming through both of their minds; they couldn't help it. Punk was regretting dragging the both of them into his life- AJ _and _Dean. Neither of them deserved the pain and anguish they'd gone through by being involved with him.

Eventually AJ fell asleep in the lounge chair in the corner of the room, exhausted from the entire ordeal. But Punk remained awake, sitting in a chair pulled up to Dean's beside. "I remember when I taught you how to shoot when you were 16," he said quietly. "Seth and Roman were nervous but you weren't. You were so excited you didn't even care that the recoil nearly dislocated your shoulder. You were sitting weird for days after that." He chuckled, then sighed. "I should have kicked you assholes out of the warehouse you know that? I should have driven you home or told you to get lost or _something_. You guys were troublemakers sure, but there's no way you would have gotten into something as crazy as your lives turned into." His fists clenched. "And then April… hell I turned her world upside and I didn't even have to fucking try. I ruined her sense of morality, knocked her up, got her kidnapped and broke her heart in less than a year. I guess my dick ruins everything huh?" His fists clenched, the only sound filling the room the intermittent beep of Dean's heart monitor. "I'm so sorry guys."

* * *

AJ and Punk finally left at around 7 AM, when Colt and Roman showed up to sit with Dean. Seth and Kaitlyn were at the house when they got back, feeding the twins breakfast. They forced the exhausted parents to take a nap until around noon, when Seth rushed into their bedroom to wake them up.

"Colt called," Seth exclaimed. "Dean's awake. Come on! Let's go!"

Both of them scrambled out of bed instantly. AJ rushed to feed the babies lunch while Punk called Mrs. Guerrero again. Punk nearly forgot to shower before leaving, hurriedly changing his clothes as AJ searched for her keys and phone. They dropped the babies off next door (AJ rather reluctantly; she hated being away from them even when it was necessary) and sped off to the hospital.

When they arrived they learned from Colt, who greeted them in the parking lot, that Dean was still fairly dazed from his pain medication. "He's awake but he's not fully here yet," he explained. "He doesn't really remember what happened. We decided to wait until you guys got here to explain everything."

But unsurprisingly, their injured group member wasn't exactly happy to see AJ _or _Punk. "What are you guys… doing here?" he wheezed groggily, clutching his side in pain as he spoke.

"They're here to tell you what happened," Colt replied.

"Why can't any… of you tell me?"

"Oh fuck it, I'll say it," Roman growled finally, standing up. "I'm tired of this. You're here because you crashed your car you idiot. You showed up to the shop completely trashed, started a fight with Punk and then got back in the car again. You went right into the guard rail outside the parking lot and messed yourself up pretty badly. You want to know who pulled you out of the wreck in the rain while we waited for the ambulance? Punk. So stop being such an asshole already."

"Roman come on!" Seth snapped. "Can you lay off being so harsh already? The guy's dying for god's sake!" Quickly realizing what he said, he covered his mouth. "Oh fuck…"

"Dying?" Dean echoed. "But you said… that my doctor said my surgery… went fine?"

"It did," Punk said coming to sit by his bedside again. "But there's more to it." He took a deep breath. "I'll just come right out and say it all right? Your liver is failing. Your nonstop drinking fucked it up beyond repair and your doctor said you've only got-"

Before he could even finish, another doctor accompanied by several nurses entered the room. "We've got some lab results back from the samples that were taken yesterday," the doctor announced. "Is a mister…" He looked down at the file folder in his hands. "Phillip Brooks. Is Phillip Brooks here?"

"That's me," Punk said quickly, standing up.

"Well, it seems you're a preliminary match for Mr. Ambrose," the doctor explained. "We'll need to do further tests on the size and function of your liver and your overall health but at this point you're on your way to becoming a candidate for transplant."

"Transplant?" Dean asked. "What does… he mean?"

"A liver transplant," Punk elaborated. "It's the only way you'll live. You're not eligible to be put on the donor list because you won't last long enough to be cleared of harming substances so they tested us to see if any of us were a match and would be able to give you half of a liver. It turns out I'm a match!"

"Oh thank god!" AJ cried, throwing her arms around Punk's neck. Her heart was swelling with joy. Finally there was going to be a light at the end of this dark tunnel. She _knew _Punk would be healthy enough for the transplant; he had to be. It would give Dean a new lease on life and-

"No."

"Huh?" AJ asked, confused.

"I said no."

"_What_?" came the audible shrieks of everyone in the room. All of them, Colt, Seth, Roman, Kaitlyn, Punk and AJ all stared at him with their jaws hanging open in shock.

"I'm not having… a fucking transplant. Now get out… of my room."


	60. Chapter 60

**Author's note: special thanks to twistedwhovian for helping me out with the realities of liver failure. You are awesome :)**

* * *

Punk blinked. Surely he had heard Dean incorrectly. "What… what did you say?"

Dean cleared his throat painfully. "I _said_," he growled, "that I don't want… your fucking liver!"

"Why not?" Colt asked. "Are these meds still making you loopy, man? Come on. You don't know what you're saying. This is your only chance to survive. If you don't take it you'll-"

"I know _exactly _what I'm saying!" Dean snapped, his eyes wide and wild as he looked around the room at all of them. "I heard what you… all said, right? I'm a fucking drunk. I caused this myself. I crashed into a… fucking guard rail. I don't deserve… your damn pity, and I don't want it."

"Dean, what are you saying?" AJ cried. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was he really going to refuse treatment? "Punk's offering you part of his liver. You're not _asking _for it. You have to take it! You'll die if you don't. You have to live!"

Dean laughed harshly. "What, so I can keep being miserable?" he asked, his voice gaining strength. "So I can sit around and think about everything that's been driving me insane for the past 6 months only I won't be able to drink it away because I'll be recovering from a damn transplant? No fucking thank you."

"Aw don't… don't say that!" Seth pleaded. "Dean, you're just upset right now. You don't really mean that. When this medication wears off and you're thinking like yourself again you-"

"I mean it!" Dean insisted. "I'm not doing it. I'm…" His hands fell to his side, weakened as the energy drained from him already. "I'm done guys. I'm done."

"But Dean-" Punk started.

Hearing Punk's voice was enough to send him into a rage again. "Just get out!" Dean shouted, furious. "Just… just get the fuck out of here, _now_!"

Punk was stunned into silence. He slowly backed out of the room, where the doctor was waiting. "Isn't there anything I can do?" he asked frantically. "I'm his medical contact. Can't I force him to do the transplant even if he doesn't want to?"

"I'm afraid your authority only extends as far as when he's incapacitated or otherwise unable to properly make medical decisions for himself," the doctor replied.

"But he's- he's talking crazy!" he exclaimed. "He wants to die! You can't just let him die!"

"If a patient wishes to discontinue treatment unfortunately we can't force it on him," the doctor explained sadly. "We'll schedule a psychiatric consult just in case but unless he's ruled as unfit to make medical decisions there's nothing you or I can do."

As the doctor left his side, Punk glanced back into the room to see Dean angrily waving everyone else out. Crestfallen, he leaned back against the wall. One of his best friends (one of his brothers, really) was rejecting his help. He was choosing to die, and there was nothing he could do about it.

But as AJ exited the room and stoically dried her tears, her hands were clenched tightly. She could tell by the look on Punk's face that he'd given up. Well, she wasn't going to. She refused to give up on Dean, even if he didn't think he deserved to live anymore.

* * *

Dean didn't have a lot of energy lately. Sometimes he could barely sit up to look out the window (not that he really wanted to look out the window anyway, there was nothing he wanted to see out there). He was also noticing that his skin was beginning to develop a sickly yellow tint, and his stomach was uncomfortably hard and bloated. With his post surgery haze wearing off, he was starting to notice the pain too. He wondered if this meant he was really dying… the hateful part of him hoped so. Hadn't he essentially been trying to kill his pain and anger with alcohol these past 6 months anyway? Now that it was finally happening, he wasn't sure how to feel.

He'd been refusing visitors over the past 2 weeks, ever since waking up from his surgery. Why should he see those bastards anyway? He had no reason to, because they had every reason to hate him didn't they? He'd been cursing at them and starting fights with them ever since Punk returned, not to mention taking advantage of AJ when she was at her most vulnerable… no. He deserved to die alone. He couldn't see any of them anymore, no matter how he felt.

But one morning, one of them was able to get around the nurse's station without anyone knowing. He was still poking listlessly at a cup of half eaten jello when AJ slipped quietly into his room. "What are you doing here?" he growled, throwing his plastic spoon down and struggling to sit up. But his arms were too weak, so he remained lying back against his pillows.

"I know you didn't want any visitors but I had to see you," AJ replied hesitantly, pulling up a seat at his bedside. She forced herself to remain calm, holding in a gasp as she took in his deathly ill appearance. She had never seen him look so weak, and it terrified her. "I sort of snuck past the desk to get in here."

"Good thing you learned lying and espionage from being around bastards like me," Dean grunted. "Again, what the hell are you doing here? Because if you're going to try to convince me to take your _fiancé's_ liver you can leave now. Don't fucking bother."

"I'm not here to talk your ear off," she assured him quickly. "I just brought a few things for you to look at." She put her bag on her lap and unzipped it, pulling out a file folder. She'd been working on this folder for the past 2 weeks, even sneaking into his apartment once to gather the things she needed. She put it on his lap and sat back in her chair, folding her hands calmly.

"What's this?" he asked, glancing down warily at the folder.

"Just look," she urged.

With a grumble he opened the folder to examine its contents- pictures. The first one, he was stunned she was even able to get a hold of. It was old, taken from afar when he was maybe 16 or so. He had a baseball in his hands, and it looked like he was getting ready to toss it to a young Seth, who was also in the picture. He placed the photo on his knee and went to the next one. He was a little older in this photo, sitting on a park bench with Punk. With a grumble he moved to the next one. Each picture took him further into his life, pictures of birthdays and holidays and nights out. When he reached the series that began AJ's inclusion in their lives, he almost couldn't go on… but he forced himself to keep looking through them, taking an abbreviated journey through the best times of his life. His eyes were red and stung with tears by the time he reached the very last picture. It was the last one ever taken of himself and the twins. They were 2 months old, sleeping on his chest as he sat in a rocking chair. They were so beautiful… and he had a small, sleepy, dreamy smile on his face.

"They may not be yours biologically, but they wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you," she said quietly. "They'll always love you. All of us will. This is your life, and everyone in it wants you here. You can't let go." She was tearing up now too, and suddenly reached out to grasp his hand firmly. "I love you so much, Dean. Not the way you want me to, but I will always love you as an important part of my life and will never forget everything you did for me and my kids. You can't just die on us! Even if you walk away and never want to see us again after you get better, please… just take it."

"But I… I've done so much," he whispered painfully. "I tackled Punk to the ground. I said horrible things to him. And I took advantage of you. You never would have slept with me if I hadn't been an asshole and just kissed you and…" He shook his head. "How can you just look past all that?"

"People make mistakes," she explained. "If we couldn't forgive… I wouldn't be with Punk right now. Besides, you're not the only person who is at fault. You didn't force yourself on me." She blinked away her tears and raised her head to look him in the eye again. "Dean, please don't give up on life. Just because you don't have the family you thought you had doesn't mean you have to just die… I love you, Punk loves you, Seth and Roman and Colt and Kaitlyn all love you! Of course Punk is mad at you right now, but it doesn't mean he wants you to die. He wants you to live and get out of this slump and come back to us. Please, Dean." She squeezed his hand, her eyes drifting shut.

She was begging him. She was really begging him. If what she said was true… that not only did she and Punk not hate him, but in fact loved him so much he was willing to overlook his transgressions and give him a chance at life again… "All right," he said finally.

She looked up again. "What?" she whispered.

"I said I'll do it."

A huge weight was lifted from her shoulders suddenly. It felt like the first day of spring. She stood up and leaned over, pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to his forehead. "Thank you," she murmured. "Now I'm going to go get Punk and you two are going to apologize to each other ok? No excuses."

He chuckled. "Ok, AJ." He couldn't promise her now that he wouldn't still be devastated after this. All he could do now was do his best to promise to keep living, for her and Punk, and Seth and Kaitlyn and Colt and Roman, and of course little Chris and Rachel.

_I don't deserve any of these people, _he thought.


	61. Chapter 61

Punk was thrilled when AJ revealed to him later that day that Dean would be accepting the transplant after all. "How the hell did you get him to say yes?" he exclaimed. "He's been kicking us all out of his room for the past 2 weeks. What did you say to him?"

"I just showed him everything he was going to leave behind if he died," AJ replied simply, taking out her folder of photos to show him. He flipped through them with the same awestruck look Dean had, nearly brought to the brink of tears by the end of it.

"This is amazing," he said, closing the folder and putting it down. "To think this was all it took…"

"Hey this wasn't easy!" she told him with a light slap to the shoulder. "It took me days and days to put together. I even had to break into his apartment and go through his stuff to get the really old pictures. Then I had to scan them and make them bigger and print them all out, and then I had to make sure I could get around the nurse's station so I wouldn't be kicked out before I even got the chance to show him this! But my master plan worked." She smiled happily at him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

He grinned back at her. "I can't wait to tell the guys."

* * *

They wasted no time in getting things rolling. Punk headed to the hospital as soon as he was done calling the rest of the group to let them know, as there was still more preliminary testing that needed to be done before the transplant could take place. No one was surprised by Punk's clean bill of perfect health; because he didn't drink, smoke or take any drugs they wouldn't have to wait for his system to cycle anything out. Additional scans revealed that his liver was just the right size to have a lobe of it extracted. The doctor decided that in light of Dean's rapidly declining health they would schedule the procedure for as soon as possible, for the following Monday.

The next part of the arrangements made AJ pretty uneasy, but they had to be done. Because all operations carried with them an inherent risk of death, they had to make the necessary legal arrangements in case the worst happened. Punk and AJ weren't officially married yet so he had to have a will drawn up, leaving the house and all of his assets to her in case anything happened to him during the operation. Dean did the same thing; "where the fuck else is all my stuff going to go?" he argued after AJ rejected it. "At least then I know the kids will be taken care of. You could start a college fund for them or something so they don't end up like their dad." She had no choice but to agree.

"Are you nervous?" Seth asked 2 nights prior to the surgery as he handed Punk a spatula. They were having a take two of the previously failed barbeque as a way to relax (they couldn't do it the night before the surgery, because Punk wasn't allowed to eat).

Punk laughed. "Are you serious?" he asked as he flipped the burgers. "I'm getting cut open and half of one of my major organs is getting cut out. Of course I'm nervous."

"Seriously Seth," Kaitlyn muttered with a chuckle. "What a question."

"Oh he'll be fine," Roman assured them all with a wave of his hand. "This is the guy who survived a bullet to the head, a grenade blast and walking miles and miles in the wilderness. A surgery supervised by a ton of well educated and experienced doctors is nothing."

Colt chuckled. "I hope so," he said as he bounced Rachel on one knee, Chris sitting happily on the other. He alternated between tickling his niece and nephew and trying to keep them from pulling each other's hair. "Now where the fuck's my burger Punk? I'm starving."

"Watch your mouth," Punk replied automatically. "Kids."

AJ smiled thinly as she watched them all. She was glad everyone (particularly Punk, and Dean who they spoke to on the phone earlier was in high spirits), but she couldn't help but keep quiet as constant worry floated around in her mind. She was terrified for the two most important men in her life. In just a short time they both would be undergoing major, life threatening surgery. What if she lost one of them? What if she lost _both _of them? The thought was so jarring she found herself jumping out of her chair and rushing to the other side of the patio to embrace Punk, who was taking the last of the burgers off the grill. She threw her arms around his midsection, pressing herself to his side.

"Hey," he chuckled, looking down at her as he put his spatula down. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she murmured. "Just letting you know I love you."

He smiled, kissing the top of her head. "I love you too," he said.

* * *

"This is going to leave a crazy scar," Colt said.

Punk shrugged. "I'll just tattoo over it," he said casually. "I haven't gotten the kids' names on me yet."

"Weren't you the one who said never to get peoples' names on yourself?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, but kids and dead people are an exception," Punk reminded him.

"Leave it to the tattoo expert," Seth muttered with a chuckle.

It was the morning of the surgery, and the patients were laying in side by side beds in pre op. Punk had said a long, tearful goodbye to his children that morning, who now resided in the care of their neighbor. Originally he was unwilling to be separated from them until the last possible moment, but eventually he agreed with AJ that a hospital was no place for babies and that they would be better off at home. They tried to pass the time in as light moods as possible, everyone joking with each other and trying to keep in high spirits. AJ hadn't left the room since they got there, sitting in a chair between the beds and holding one hand of Punk's and one of Dean's.

"How long is the recovery time again?" Kaitlyn asked.

"I think they said 6 weeks after a weeklong hospital stay," Roman replied. "Why?"

"I just wanted to know how long we're going to have to deal with this asshole," Kaitlyn said teasingly, nudging Dean's foot with her elbow. He would be staying with her and Seth following his release from the hospital, as there was no way a recovering organ transplant recipient would be able to take care of himself. Punk originally suggested he stay at the house with himself and AJ, but Dean rejected the idea- two men recovering from surgery, plus twin infants? He couldn't put that burden on her.

"I love feeling so wanted," Dean teased back.

"You know you can't drink anymore after this right?" Colt reminded him.

"Yeah, we don't have any more organs to throw you if you fuck up this one," Roman added.

"I know I know," Dean intoned. "I went through some sick withdrawal during my first week here. It sucked more than getting shot. When I get out of here I'm never having another sip of the stuff." He looked from AJ to Punk, his expression stern. "That's a promise." Then he glanced around at the whole group. "Do you guys think I could have a minute alone with Punk?"

They all agreed, AJ slightly hesitant but willing to leave with the rest of them. "What's up?" Punk asked.

"I just…" Dean paused, shaking his head as he searched for the right words. "Fuck I don't know what to say. I just had to thank you again. You're giving me my life back."

Punk just waved casually. "Don't worry about it," he said. "You would do the same for me."

"No really," Dean insisted. "You're giving me part of your liver after I slept with your fiancé, laughed at you about it to your face and tried to fight you. You're a better man than I could ever hope to be… and if I don't make it out of this…" He bit his lip as his voice broke. "I just want you to know that-"

"Shut up," Punk ordered. "I know." His eyes were already filled with tears, and he knew hearing that sentence would push him over the edge. Instead he reached across the small gap between their beds to grasp his hand, squeezing it firmly and nodding.

The anesthesiologist and a team of nurses came for them not long after. AJ had been holding her composure up until now, but faced with the final moments before surgery she couldn't keep it together any longer. "I love you so much," she whispered to Punk, framing his face between her hands.

"Hey," he said with a smile, brushing her tears away. "We're going to make it ok?"

She nodded, smiling through her tears. "You're my hero," she replied, kissing him. Both of these guys, despite their faults and shortcomings had to be the strongest men she knew. She knew they had to make it out of this, the both of them. Then she moved to Dean, squeezing his hand and placing a kiss on his forehead. Each member of their tight knit group said their own farewells to both of them, until their beds were wheeled out of the room one by one.

"Give them hell!" Colt called after them, as the beds disappeared behind the double doors.


	62. Chapter 62

"Fuck," Dean groaned. "This fucking hurts!"

"Stop your whining," Roman said pointedly.

"You try getting a fucking liver transplant and not getting drugged after," Dean grumbled. He and Punk were now a week removed from surgery, and neither of them was taking any pain medication- Punk because he blatantly refused it on principle and Dean because most pain medication negatively affected the liver and they couldn't risk damaging his newly transplanted organ. The operation had gone perfectly for both of them and Dean's new liver was functioning well so far, but that didn't mean he was out of the woods just yet.

"That doesn't mean you don't sound like a bitch," Seth teased.

"Yeah, whine about your poor internal organs all you want," Colt added.

"All of you better shut it," Punk ordered, groaning slightly as he eased himself into a sitting position (which wasn't an easy task). "You're giving me a headache!" They were being released from the hospital very soon, having already signed their discharge papers. All that was left now was to wait for confirmation, and for the medication they _would _be taking.

"Knock knock," AJ called cheerfully and she and Kaitlyn entered the room. They were each carrying a bag. "Are you all set and ready to go?"

"Not yet," Punk replied. "Still waiting for the doc."

"Well while we wait you both can put on real clothes," AJ replied, setting her bag down on the edge of Punk's bed. She unzipped it and pulled out a pair of basketball shorts and a loose fitting white T shirt, as well as sandals. She wanted him to be as comfortable as possible. "Come on, I'll help you." As she carefully and gently pulled his hospital gown off and his shirt over his head, he saw Kaitlyn unzipping her bag and revealing a similar outfit for Dean.

"Oh fuck this hurts," Dean wheezed painfully.

"Quit being such a baby," Kaitlyn said, guiding his arms through the shirt.

"I will as soon as I can lie in a bed that doesn't adjust its height when I hit a button by accident in the middle of the night," Dean promised.

By the time both of them were dressed, their doctor came in with their signed and stamped discharge papers, as well as additional prescriptions to take home. "These are the next round of post op antibiotics for both of you," he said, handing each of them a signed prescription. "They're for the next 3 weeks. Once they're over you should be fine, Mr. Brooks. You'll just need to come back in for a checkup. But this…" He handed Dean another prescription. "This is your anti rejection medication. It's extremely important that you take these every day at the same time ok? You can't miss a dose. Your body is going to try to reject the new organ, because it isn't yours. Depending on how well you respond to them, you might have to be on these for the rest of your life."

"Yeah yeah, once a day with breakfast, sounds good!" Dean intoned. "Can we get out of here?"

* * *

Punk didn't even care that he was still too sore to do much other than lay in bed, he was just happy to be home that night. He lay back against a stack of pillows, with Chris curled up against one side of his body and Rachel against the other. Their dad hadn't been available to put them to bed in a whole week, and they were delighted to have him home again. Both were upset they couldn't crawl all over him and be tossed in the air like they usually did, but being able to snuggle up against him was almost as good.

"Hey," AJ said with a smile as she entered the room, leaning against the doorway. "How are you feeling?" She yawned; caring for 2 babies and a recovering fiancé was no easy task, especially while having a sore back after spending most nights this week sleeping in a pull out chair in the hospital. But it was all worth it, knowing everyone in her life was healthy and happy.

"My stomach is killing me," he admitted, "but overall I feel great." He grinned down at his children; he often still marveled at the fact that tiny human beings who looked like him and often mirrored his facial expressions actually existed. They sure were beautiful…

She lowered herself down next to him on the bed, careful not to shake the mattress and wake the twins. "Are you glad you did it?" she asked him softly, reaching over to trace carefully around the long scar that now adorned his torso. Underneath his skin only half his liver remained, it was truly a testament to how dedicated he was to the people he loved.

"One of my best friends is still alive," he reminded her. "Fuck the pain. I'm glad I did it."

She nodded, curling up as close to him as possible, pressing herself against Chris and draping her arm across all 3 of them. "I'm just worried about him still," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "What if this… new lease on life of his is only temporary? What if he starts drinking again? There will be nothing we can do about it and then we'll lose him for sure."

He frowned for a moment, considering what she said. He'd given Dean another chance at life, but that didn't change the reckless person the man was. Alcoholics didn't just reform over night. There was no guarantee he wasn't still hopelessly in love with AJ, and wouldn't continue to attempt to drown his sorrows in alcohol the way he was doing only a few weeks ago. If he threw everything he had away again Punk didn't know what he was going to do. But he had to believe that Dean would stay strong. "I think he'll be fine," he announced finally. "He has to be."

"I hope so," she said, moving a soft curl of Rachel's hair away from her forehead. She was silent for a moment, enjoying the closeness with her family she loved so much.

"So when are we getting married?" he asked suddenly.

The question seemed so random she actually let out a chuckle. "Wait just a second here, the _guy _is asking when we're getting married?" she asked, holding her palm to her mouth to stifle her laughter. "Wake me up because I think I'm dreaming."

"Hey if you don't want to do it I can just take that ring back," he teased with a grin.

"Shut up," she giggled, slapping his shoulder playfully. "You know I want to get married. I just think we should wait until you can get out of bed without making that awful pain face."

"You're probably right," he agreed. "I just want to be married already. Filling out all of that paperwork to leave everything to you and the kids in case something happened to me was so annoying."

"So that's why you want to get married?" she asked. "For less paperwork?"

"Yes," he replied with a serious nod. "It's purely about the paperwork and it has nothing to do with me loving the hell out of you and wanting to spend the rest of my life with you because you took a criminal killing machine like me and gave me a reason to live a normal life." He smiled and kissed her forehead. "I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

* * *

"You know you're going to have to get a suit," Kaitlyn said frankly, leaning back on the couch.

"But there's only going to be 7 people there," Seth argued. "9 if you count the kids. Who cares?"

"AJ will," she reminded him. "Come on, it's _one _day. You can handle it!"

Seth grumbled. "I guess," he relented. He hated suits, to him they were uncomfortable and itchy. The only time he ever wore one was to parties at Alberto's mansion he was forced to attend and those days were long behind him now. "But in return when we get home I get to rip off your dress and do some really exciting things to do you. Deal?"

She chuckled at him. "Ok ok, deal."

"Sounds like I interrupted something," Dean teased as he hobbled into the living room. He was still pale and weak and lost some weight while in the hospital but he was determined to be back on his feet. Face contorted in pain for a moment, he leaned back against the wall to save some energy.

"You're not," Seth assured him. "You think I'd get laid on the couch? I'm not that lucky."

"Dean, you should be in bed!" Kaitlyn scolded.

He merely shrugged, pushing himself off the wall to join them on the couch. "I've been out of the hospital for 3 weeks," he reminded her. "I need to get back to my old self eventually."

"Not the drunk self," Seth said hopefully.

"No, not the drunk self," Dean growled. He shook his head. "So what were you guys talking about?"

"The wedding," Kaitlyn replied. "Seth is being a bitch about having to get a suit. We need to get you one too you know. And I swear if you make a fuss about it too I'm going to-"

Dean bit his lip. He knew the wedding was going to take place in a few months, but he was trying not to think or talk about it much in an effort not to upset himself. But he knew it was going to come up in conversation sooner or later. "Yeah, the wedding," he muttered. "I don't think I'm gonna be there."

"What?" Seth asked with a frown. "But why not? Neither of them are angry at you for… what happened before your accident. You know they both want you there. Everyone does."

"I just don't think it's a good idea," Dean replied. "It's been hard trying to let go of AJ. I'm accepting it and I'm doing ok so far but fuck, it's really fucking hard. I don't know if watching her get married would be a good idea. I don't think it would but what if it sets me off again? If I hit the bottle again I don't know if I would be able to stop. I might really end up killing myself." He laughed harshly. "It's kinda sucked lately but I'm trying to get back to liking my life again."

"I guess that makes sense," Kaitlyn agreed.

"They'll both be disappointed you aren't going to be there," Seth pointed out.

"I know," Dean said with a soft sigh. "That's why I'm not going to tell them. I'm counting on both of you not to say anything either."

* * *

**Author's note: hey everyone I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Just letting you know the next chapter will be the last one for this story. Stay tuned!**


	63. Chapter 63

**Author's note: Here it is, the conclusion to Desperate Measures! I hope it lives up to expectations. I would like to thank everyone who has been reading for this long and reviewing and sticking by me. You all are awesome. I might be coming out with a sequel to this story sometime soon. Stay tuned guys and thanks again! **

* * *

"I'm nervous," AJ muttered, glancing at reflection in the mirror as she twisted her hair around her index finger. "Are you sure my dress looks ok? What about my hair?"

Kaitlyn could only laugh. "You sound ridiculous," she said. "You _know _you look great. Why are you nervous anyway? You've been with this guy for over a year and you're the mother of his children. You aren't going out on a first date. You're marrying the love of your life!"

"It's my wedding day," AJ pointed out. "Of course I'm going to be nervous!" Her knees had been bouncing up and down constantly all morning, since waking up at the cabin on the edge of Lake Michigan. She hadn't seen Punk since the previous night, and she was so anxious she barely even slept… but it was a good kind of worried. Worrying about the details of your wedding being perfect was the best thing she could possibly be worried about. She wasn't afraid for her life, crying over her presumed dead boyfriend, worrying about the fate of her unborn child or mourning the impending death of one of her best friends. Today was about worrying if her dress looked perfect and making sure the kids didn't ruin their outfits before the ceremony. Speaking of the kids… "Hey, how are the twins?"

"They're fine," Kaitlyn assured her. "Roman is getting them ready in the living room." They were now a little over a year old and had recently begun walking which sometimes made getting them dressed a difficult affair. But Roman managed it this morning, wrangling both rambunctious toddlers and getting Chris in his suit and Rachel in her dress.

"And Punk and the rest of the guys?" AJ asked.

"Down by the lake setting up," Kaitlyn replied.

AJ smiled broadly, putting her hairbrush down. "Good. Everyone's here."

Kaitlyn bit her lip. "Yeah. Everyone."

* * *

Punk was staring out at the lake, watching the small waves crash gently against the shore. Behind him stood a small makeshift altar Seth and Colt had constructed about a week ago. The sworn justice of the peace and the photographer had arrived a few minutes ago. Roman had just joined them with the surprisingly well dressed kids who were now giggling for the photographer. He couldn't wait to see what his bride looked like in her dress but it almost didn't matter. A flour sack couldn't make her any less beautiful. Everything was going perfect so far, on the day of the simple wedding that AJ planned and he he never thought he would deserve to have. But there was still one thing missing. Frowning as he looked down at his watch, he turned around to survey the people around him- Colt, Seth, Roman, the official, the photographer and the babies. Kaitlyn and AJ were still in the cabin. That just left one person missing.

"Where's Dean?" he asked to no one in particular. "Has he called any of you? He hasn't answered any of my calls." He actually hadn't seen Dean in over a week, not since the twins' birthday party.

"Haven't heard from him," Colt replied. He glanced around. "Anyone else?"

"Not me," Roman informed them. "But didn't he just move out of your apartment Seth? Maybe he's been getting settled or something. I don't know, it's been a busy week."

Punk turned to the last silent man beside them. "Seth?" he asked.

Seth remained quiet for a moment, shuffling his dress shoes at the sand beneath him. "He didn't want me or Kaitlyn to say anything until today," he admitted finally, eyes still cast downward. "He told us awhile ago but begged us not to say anything. He's not gonna be here Punk."

"What?" Punk asked in disbelief, shaking his head. "That's stupid. Why?"

"He said it would be too painful," Seth explained, finally looking up at him. "He told us he was doing alright trying to let go of AJ but he thought watching her get married would be setting himself up for another breakdown. He doesn't want to go off the deep end again."

Punk sighed, fiddling with his uncomfortable cufflinks. He'd badly wanted Dean to attend his wedding but he supposed the only recently reformed alcoholic was right in a way. Even though he wanted Dean to be here today and he knew AJ would be heartbroken that he would be missing their wedding, he knew both of them would rather have him absent then suffer from a deadly relapse. "I really wanted him to be here," he muttered sadly.

"Hey, he sends his best wishes," Seth assured him, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

"Cheer up!" Colt advised. "You're getting married in a few minutes. You of all people managed to find a woman who could tolerate your arrogance, ego, tattoos, straight edge mentality, punk rock obsession and the whole criminal empire connections thing. That's something to celebrate."

Punk laughed. "Yeah it is," he agreed. He turned back toward the cabin, watching as Kaitlyn came out in her maid of honor dress. She joined Seth near the altar.

"Did you tell her about Dean?" Seth asked.

She nodded. "She's not happy but she's dealing with it," she replied.

"When is she coming out?" Punk asked.

"Just a few more minutes," Kaitlyn told him excitedly.

Punk grinned unabashedly as he looked back at the cabin. He knew his fiancé was in there waiting to come down to him. In just a few minutes the woman he very nearly managed to lose so many times was going to be his wife. She would be his forever soon, something he never thought any woman would be to him, let alone one as accepting and perfect for him as AJ. Soon he would be putting on a ring he was determined to never take off.

* * *

"I can't believe he's not coming," AJ muttered to the empty room. Kaitlyn's revelation about Dean's absence had left her stunned. He was one of the most important people in her life, and her soon to be husband had donated half his liver to him! How could he just _not _attend their wedding, choosing to disappear instead? But even as hurt as she was she had to admit his reasoning made sense. She too would rather have him sit the wedding out then suffer through it in painful silence.

Lifting her head, she stood proudly. Today was her day. She was getting married to the love of her life as soon as she walked out that door. She couldn't wait to stand with her closest friends as Punk slid a gold band onto her ring finger. Smiling broadly she straightened the simple white folds of her dress and headed to the bedroom door. Just as she reached for the doorknob she pulled back her hand as someone knocked loudly from the other side.

"Uh, come in," she said quickly. Maybe Kaitlyn had forgotten something.

"Hey," Dean said sheepishly as he entered the room, head ducked slightly. "Wow, you look great."

AJ's eyes widened as she backed away from the door in shock. "Dean?" she cried. "What are you doing here? Kaitlyn _just _told me you weren't coming! Was that a joke? I thought you wouldn't be here!"

"Up until an hour ago neither did I," he admitted. "It wasn't a joke. I made up my mind after I got out of the hospital that I wasn't going to go to your wedding. Kaitlyn told you why didn't she?"

Biting her lower lip she nodded. "Yeah," she replied softly. "I get it, I do… I just thought you would have wanted to be here. After everything all of us have been through together."

"I did want to be here," he said fiercely. "That's why I came. I was driving around town trying to get my mind off everything because thinking about not being here was just driving me crazy you know? I passed by that old taco place Seth loves and I remembered that's where we all met you for the first time after bugging Punk for weeks and weeks to bring you with him one night and hell I don't know, I guess it just made me think about all the good times. I realized I was being stupid and selfish not to be here. Fuck, you gave me a life when I didn't really have one and Punk saved it when it wasn't even worth a damn. What kind of asshole would I have to be to skip out on this? I stopped by some cheap outlet store, bought a suit that barely fits and drove my sorry ass over here."

Her frown of confusion twisted into a broad smile. "I'm glad you made it," she said quietly, reaching out to cup his unshaven cheek with her palm. "It wouldn't have been the same without you." Her heart began to pound again as she withdrew her hand. It was nearly time now. "So now that you're here, what would you say to walking me down there?"

"Oh AJ, I couldn't."

"Come on!" She shoved him playfully. "You're already here and you're stuffed into that monkey suit anyway. Make yourself useful and give me that arm so we can get this show on the road."

He laughed. "Alright alright, don't chop my fucking head off." He extended his arm to her in a gentlemanly fashion. She took it and together they walked out the door.

* * *

The first thing Punk was struck by when AJ walked out of the cabin was how stunningly, strikingly beautiful she was in that dress. The pearly, lacy white fabric that clung to her body like the feathers of a dove made her look like nothing less than an absolute angel. It was the only time he could ever remember truly being robbed of the ability to breathe by such a beautiful sight. He was fairly aware of his jaw unhinging slightly and hanging open.

The next thing he saw blew him away almost as much as his bride to be. Someone was escorting her down to the lake and as they came closer he saw (to everyone's shock) that it was none other than Dean Ambrose on her arm, dressed in a tightly fitting and clearly purchased at the very last minute suit. He was smiling genuinely at all of them but couldn't help but send a sly grin Punk's way.

"That son of a bitch," Punk muttered with a laugh. He looked at Seth. "Were you kidding before about what you said? About him not being here?"

"No I swear," Seth promised. "He told us both he wasn't going to come to the wedding. I guess he changed his mind and decided to show up after all."

Punk smiled and fell silent again, turning his gaze back to them. He could already see AJ's eyes shining with joyful tears, his were as well. "Mama!" Chris cried, hopping up and down happily. He broke free from Roman's side and ran to Punk, tugging on his father's pants excitedly. "Daddy, Mama!"

"I know buddy," he whispered, picking him up. "Mommy sure is pretty, isn't she?" Chris giggled in reply and burrowed his head against his dad's neck. Punk chuckled, turning to hand Chris to Colt and bending quickly to give Rachel a kiss on the forehead just as Dean and AJ reached them.

"Hey," Dean said casually. "I uh think I have something that belongs to you."

"I'm not sure I deserve her," Punk replied, "but I'll take her."

AJ gleefully extended her hand to him and he took it, standing with him only a few feet from the rather calm waves coming off the lake. She smiled back at Dean once more before facing Punk again, a shameless grin on her face. "Ready?" she whispered.

"Ready," he replied, smiling back.

* * *

"Get me a beer!" Seth called.

"Hell no, you're driving us home you asshole," Colt called back as he closed the door and rejoined them at the table. "I've already had a few beers tonight. You're staying sober." They were all celebrating on the deck of the cabin, and Punk and AJ had officially been a happily married couple for 5 hours now, having spent most of that time curled together in the same lounge chair. Neither of them could believe yet that they'd actually managed to escape such horrific memories and wind down to a fairytale of a wedding instead. There had been plenty of food to go around and the few guests of the small ceremony were winding down the celebration. AJ had already put the exhausted, excitable children down to sleep, and Kaitlyn and Seth would be taking them home soon to give Punk and AJ a night to themselves before leaving for their honeymoon.

"I guess we should start clearing out then?" Seth asked. "All right I'll go get twin A. Kaitlyn, you got twin B under control? Let's go, time to drive the bus home!"

Kaitlyn laughed. "How about we say goodnight first?" she suggested. She stood up and circled around the table to unceremoniously yank AJ off Punk's lap and pull her into a hug. "I'm so happy for you guys."

"Thanks Kait," AJ whispered back, holding her tightly. "For everything. I love you guys."

The lifelong best friends held each other for a moment longer before separating, giving Kaitlyn the opportunity to embrace Punk as he stood up. "I know you didn't like me at first but I'm glad you're still here," he told her honestly. "Thanks for taking the twins while we'll be gone."

"Of course!" she said with a smile. "The more time Seth spends with them the easier it will be for me to convince him to have kids." She winked.

"That's it, we're leaving them here!" Seth hollered as he hugged AJ.

Roman just laughed as he came to see off the newly married couple. "You're going to have them eventually with this girl so just get used to it," he called over his shoulder as he pulled Punk into a bear hug. "You see what you've done to all of us Punk?"

"Turned us into law abiding citizens," Dean jeered.

"No that was AJ," Colt reminded them all. "You think this degenerate would have given up the crime life if it wasn't for her? No way. We would still be killing assholes in the warehouse."

"Guys stop!" AJ laughed. "I'm no hero here. Lay off!"

Colt just smiled. "All the same," he said. "Thanks for saving our lives." He kissed her cheek.

There were only 3 people left at the cabin now. Dean stood a little awkwardly between Punk and AJ, hands dug into his pockets. "I guess I should head out," he said, looking to both of them.

"Must be nice to not have to get a designated driver huh?" Punk teased.

Dean couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah it is," he admitted. Then he straightened up a little. "I'm really glad I ended up coming. I didn't think I could handle this but it would have been fucking stupid of me not to be here for you guys. You saved my worthless fucking life after all!"

"Hey stop that," AJ ordered, slapping his shoulder. "Your life isn't worthless. You need to stop talking like that ok? You know how important you are to us."

"Yeah yeah," Dean chuckled.

"So we'll see you when we get back from our honeymoon?" Punk asked.

"Actually…" Dean glanced down at the wooden deck again. "I'm leaving tomorrow."

AJ raised her eyebrows in confusion. "You're leaving?"

"'I've been thinking about it since the surgery," Dean admitted. "I'm just going to get on a flight and go. I saw the doctor yesterday and he said I don't need to be on as many anti rejection meds anymore, so I can get enough to last me. I just want to get out of here you know? A few months ago I thought I was knocking on death's door. Now I have a whole new chance at life thanks to you guys. I like the comic business but I just think there's something… more out there for me you know? I've been nothing but a worthless thug for my whole life. It's time to see what else there is."

"But…" she practically whispered, looking frantically to Punk for answers but he could offer her none. He looked just as shocked as she did, his face twisted in confusion.

"I won't be gone forever," Dean added quickly, studying their rapidly dropping expressions. "Maybe a few months or even a year. But I'll be back I promise."

Punk was silent for a moment as he took all of this in. It hurt to know Dean would be leaving, but also filled him with a renewed sense of hope for the man that he was taking his new life by the reins and searching for his purpose. Somehow he knew Dean was going to be just fine. "I'm glad you came," he said, pulling him into a tight hug. "Really. You needed to be here."

AJ quickly inserted herself into their embrace, worming her way between them and wrapping her arms around them both. "I love you guys," she muttered. "You both saved my life too." She tilted her head back to place a kiss on Dean's cheek, then a full one on her new husband. She wasn't sure how she would have been able to survive this long without either of them.

* * *

"We're all alone," AJ whispered, curling against Punk's chest. They were sitting down by the lakeshore, illuminated only by the moon and the faint light from the cabin. She felt so dreamily at peace with him now… she wasn't just a vet anymore or a heartbroken girl trying to run away from her memories. She had been to hell and back to achieve what she had now, a blissful life with her husband and her children. She couldn't believe everything that had happened in just the past 2 years… murders and kidnappings, memory loss and near death experiences, and it had all led to this. "So what happens to us now?"

He turned his head to smile down at her. God was she ever perfect for him… he didn't care what anyone said, no amount of good deeds would ever make him deserve her. How some backwards criminal punk like him managed to land a girl like her he would never know. He would never forgive himself for putting her through such hell, all for him. A lesser woman would have given it all up long before now. But he hoped he would be able to make it up for it with the start of their new life as a married couple, giving her everything she ever wanted out of life and so much more.

"What happens now?" he echoed with another smile. "Our next great adventure."


End file.
